Those Who Watch Over Us
by sangchi
Summary: "So, let me see if I have this correct: you're a man who jumps from rooftops, swinging an axe, murdering those who try to control all of humanity?" "Yes," was the plain reply. "Right then. Well, what could possibly go wrong?" Honestly? More than Sarah can imagine. Full summary inside. Eventual Connor/Oc
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Story time? Story time.**

**Now, before you ask, "Wait! Didn't you write a story for AC3 already?" I did, but with so much information lacking about the role Connor played during the Revolution and his interactions with major historical figures, it was difficult to create a narrative that worked not only worked smoothly, but also one that didn't seem too crazy to the point where it wasn't believable. **

**So, here we are friends! My second attempt to write a decent and coherent story for our new Assassin, Connor. Sit back, relax, pop some popcorn and let's get this show on the road! Crickey, get the bags! (Whoever got that reference gets +10 Awesome Points)**

* * *

"You have to be a big girl now," her father had told her when Sarah was three. "You and Susanna." There were tears in his eyes and his voice had begun to crack when he spoke. Sarah and her older brother Ben stood there and watch their father try to keep himself together. Edward Townsend sat on his knees and held his two eldest children close to him.

Ben was seven and seemed to know better as to what was going on as he too began to start crying, holding onto their father. Sarah just stood there as she let her father hold her tightly. Susanna, Sarah's twin, was in the other room playing with baby Abigail. Susanna seemed completely oblivious to their father and the way he was acting as she told little Abby how to play with her doll.

"Papa, where's Mama?" Sarah asked. Maybe it was the innocence in her tone that made Edward tense up, but Ben beat their father to the punch.

"Mum's gone, Sarah! She isn't coming back!" he shouted through his tears. Ben furiously wiped them away and ran off to another part of the house. Edward looked behind him and was torn between comforting his son, or trying to help his daughter understand that her mother, Edward's beloved wife, had died while giving birth to their fifth child. The child had also died in the process.

"Why is Ben so sad?" Sarah asked innocently. Why was everyone so upset? It was starting to affect her and making her want to cry. Edward looked Sarah in the eyes and rubbed her shoulders comfortingly.

_She and Susanna have their mother's eyes,_ Edward thought distantly. Frances Townsend had the greenest eyes Edward had ever seen on a woman. It was one of the things that always made him melt when he looked at her. It made his heart drop more seeing that shade of green, but was comforted knowing that he'd see his Franny's eyes in their children.

"Ben is just upset that…that Mummy has to go away for a very long time, that's all." Edward said, trying to put a comforting smile on his face.

"Going where?" Susanna asked from the sitting room. Abigail was making happy gurgling noises at Susanna who was holding the baby in her lap.

"Girls," Edward began, picking up Sarah and holding her in his arms. He walked into the sitting room and sat in his favorite chair, beckoning for Susanna to come closer. With baby Abigail still in her lap, Susanna sat by her father's feet and looked up at him. "You're mother isn't coming back. Ever."

In Sarah's mind, it sounded as if her mother had left them forever not wanting them anymore. That was enough to make her cry her eyes out, but it wasn't until the actual funeral that Sarah fully understood what happened. She did need to be a big girl, for Papa, Ben, baby Abby, and Susanna.

"Like grandfather," Sarah said as she held onto Susanna's hand and her father's. Edward looked down at her, almost astonished.

"Yes," he said slowly. "Just like grandfather."

After the death of her mother, both Sarah and Ben took it upon themselves to help their father in anyway they could. It filled Edward with endless pride in his two eldest children, seeing them comfort their siblings or helping with the cleaning and cooking. Ben and Sarah grew closer as they helped their father run the house and sometimes Ben would help their father in his store, something Ben was likely to inherit one day.

Sarah had always been slightly different than her siblings, Edward noticed. While Susanna loved to read and stay inside, and Abby loved to write stories and draw pictures, Sarah more often than not was playing outside with Ben and climbing trees with her older brother. Despite falling off several trees and scraping her knees and elbows, Sarah always laughed it off and climbed and even higher one.

"That girl will be the death of me," Sarah's stepmom, Margret often sighed.

Edward had married her after a few years but didn't have any more children. Margret was slightly passed her prime and doctors discouraged her from bearing any more children. She was a kind, thoughtful woman and treated Ben, Sarah, Susanna, and Abigail like they were her own children. But Margret was also firm in discipline. No matter how hard she tried, Sarah always still misbehaved. Sarah even sat astride a horse when she snuck out for a ride in the mornings adding more to her stepmother's headaches.

Where Susanna and Abigail had short tempers like their mother, Sarah and Ben inherited their father's patience and understanding. Susanna and Sarah, while growing up, looked the most like their mother; with their big green eyes, rounded faces, long necks and fingers, and slim physiques. The only thing they didn't inherit from their mother was her short stature and bright red hair. Both Susanna and Sarah were tall like their father, towering over most girls their age. Both Abby and Ben took after their father in both looks and stature, with bright blue eyes, dark hair, and short stubby fingers.

But Sarah did love to read, especially stories about knights and princesses. Edward instilled a love of learning in his children, though the only one who seemed truly passionate was Sarah. Ben was more interested in fighting and being a famous general in the British Army, whereas Sarah wanted to learn things like philosophy, language, and politics. Susanna and Abby didn't really bother with such subjects and were more interested in "womanly" pursuits like needlework and etiquette (something that made Sarah restless as she wanted to climb trees with Ben).

When their father wasn't looking, Sarah overheard his discussions with his friends late at night about the on goings in Parliament, who was the most successful in Boston despite all the taxes, and other intellectual pursuits that fascinated Sarah to no end. Whenever Susanna or Margret caught her, she would be pinched and dragged back to her room. Edward never said anything about his daughter being interested in such things, but found it endlessly amusing nonetheless, as did Ben who sometimes got to participate in those conversations. Sometimes he'd tell Sarah about them and she would hand onto his every word while they talked.

When Sarah Townsend turned five years old, her father had sat her down on his lap and told her that she was going to marry a "fine man one day." Being so young and idealistic, Sarah had imagined falling in love with a tall and handsome man who would come and sweep her off her feet like the stories she read. Sadly, life was never like a fairytale.

By the time she was fifteen, Sarah's father had arranged a marriage between her and the son of one of his business associates, named William Pickard. He wasn't much older than her; William would be turning eighteen this upcoming July. Sarah had met William a few times and thought him rather…plain.

Sure, William was somewhat well versed in literature, something Sarah loved deeply, and seemed to have a sharp mind for business and politics. He was considerably handsome with his flaxen hair and bright hazel eyes, but Will lacked certain vigor when it came to life and, in Sarah's eyes, that made him rather dull.

It was needless to say that Sarah was not entirely enthusiastic about getting married.

Still, Sarah, wanting to please her father, didn't utter a word of complaint and took the entire situation in stride with a polite smile on her face. But at night, Sarah confided her secrets to Susanna as they huddled under the sheets together as the candle gently flickered, giving a soft glow around the bed.

"Are you excited to be marring to Will?" Susanna asked on night, wrapping her arms around her small frame. It was bitterly cold outside and their house had a few nooks and crannies that let the cold in. March had proved to be colder than January and December combined. Sarah smiled weakly in reply.

"I wish I were," she began. She still felt too young to get married as she had barely turned fifteen back in January with Susanna. "But Papa says that it's a woman's duty to be married and be a good wife to her husband." Sarah traced patterns on the crème colored bed sheets, sighing as she did.

Sarah still had few more years till she was of age to be married. According to law she was still considered an infant and wouldn't be an adult until she was 21. But the idea though was enough to make Sarah feel uneasy.

"And what is it you want to do, Sarah?" Susanna asked her green eyes filled with curiosity. Sarah hummed and bit her lip in thought, a habit she had picked up over the years.

"I don't know," she answered. "I wouldn't mind running the store with Ben and Papa." Susanna rolled her eyes in amusement. Sarah was the eldest twin by no less than five minuets, but because of that, he sister loved to take charge. Susanna always joked that she was born into the wrong sex. Both Sarah and Susanna giggled and lifted their heads from under the covers. The cold night air felt refreshing on their warm faces as they sat in bed together.

"When do you think Papa will arrange my marriage?" Susanna wondered aloud. Sarah shrugged and assumed it would be soon, to which her twin agreed was probably right. Sarah blew out the candle, wished her twin a goodnight and slowly fell asleep.

Just as she was on the verge of going to bed, gunshots broke the night's silence. Both girls woke with a start and rushed to their bedroom window. Their house was close to Kings Street and could hear more gunshots and screams close by.

"What on earth is going on?" Susanna asked trying to look around the corner. By then, Sarah was grabbing her thickest cloak and putting on her shoes.

"Are you going somewhere?" Susanna harshly whispered. Sarah didn't answer only making her way to the backdoor that faced towards King Street. Susanna was tailing Sarah down the stairs trying to convince her to stay out of trouble. Again. Ben was already by the backdoor, wrapping a scarf around his neck.

"You heard it too?" he asked noticing Sarah wearing her cloak and hastily fastened bonnet. Sarah nodded and stood by his side. Abby leaned against the railing of the stairs and looked down at her siblings.

"You'll get in trouble again!" Abby whispered, clutching her nightgown. Susanna nodded vigorously.

"Abby's right! You'll get into trouble if you go outside! Papa will be furious, and so will Mama!" Ben's face went hard.

"She's not our mother," he replied bitterly in a low voice. Susanna's expression fell.

"But she still loves us all the same. Mama would be devastated if she knew you and Ben walked to where the gunshots were!" Susanna remarked. Abby went down a few steps and nodded in agreement. Sarah and Ben really didn't care. Since their mother died, they had become so close they did most things together.

"Don't tell on us, Anna," Sarah pleaded as she walked out the door with Ben. "You too Abby. We'll be back before you know it!" Without waiting for a reply, Sarah quietly closed the door and caught up with Ben as they made their way to Kings Street.

"What do you suppose happened?" Sarah asked observing the people running to and fro, almost in mass hysteria. Several British soldiers ran down the streets yelling and threatening to shoot.

"Whatever it may be, it can't be good." Ben said. He was a man of nineteen now and was starting to grow a small beard on his chin. He and Sarah were near the same height too and had always been protective of his younger siblings. As they walked, Sarah regretted not putting on a thicker dress. Her entire body was freezing. Ben was hastily dressed in his breeches, waistcoat, and thick wool coat. He seemed much warmer than Sarah right now.

Once they made it to Kings Street, there was a thin layer of smoke dispersing by the Customs House. Several bodies laid bleeding in the snow as both men and women cried over their bodies, while some hobbled away with bleeding limbs.

"It's a massacre," Ben breathed in astonishment. He wrapped a protective arm around Sarah and pulled her in close. Sarah examined the crowd with wide eyes. Some of the people in the crowd were pinning down the soldiers that Sarah assumed has fired on the crowd. There were some shouts on the other side of the street.

"HE'S THE ONE! GET HIM!" a British soldier shouted, a small band following behind him. They were chasing a boy, Sarah noticed, and upon closer inspection, she realized it was a Native American boy around her age.

Ben pulled them both away as the soldiers ran passed, almost running them over. But as the boy ran passed them, Sarah managed to look into his eyes. For a brief moment, Sarah saw fear and anxiety, but behind that, there was a burning passion in those eyes. Whatever it was, Sarah could not say for the boy had disappeared before she could get a really good look at him.

While Ben kept observing the crowd, Sarah still kept her eyes on group of soldiers as they chased after the boy. He didn't look like a killer to Sarah, he looked as though her were trying to find his way in the world like everyone else.

"Come, we shouldn't stay any longer. We might get into some trouble ourselves with the soldiers," Ben said. He was staring down some stranger across the street that wore a three-corner hat and cape. The look in his eyes made Sarah shiver, but not from the cold. There was something unsettling in that man's eyes. The man eyes both Sarah and Ben before disappearing in the snow.

Ben lead them back home and by the time the returned, the crowd had begun to thin and the hysteria had calmed down. But inside, both their father and Margret stood by the backdoor with looks that made the siblings squirm in their shoes.

Needless to say, both Sarah and Ben got a good thrashing for sneaking out into the chaos that night.

* * *

They said a young Native fired the first shot that night. Then the story changed to a middle-aged man who wore a costume and escaped towards the wharves. Whatever the story was or may have been, Sarah didn't believe that the Native boy did it. She remembered the look in his eyes and the boy did not have the eyes of a killer.

Several months passed after that, and William sometimes came to call on Sarah whenever he wasn't doing his father's work. Ben could always be counted on for a bit of teasing after William visited her, but it was all in good fun. Ben stopped talking about joining the British militia and sometimes whispered to Sarah about possibly fighting them one day. Sarah would slap his arm and told him that was dangerous talk, especially during this time when tensions were as high as they were.

By September, tensions in Boston were rising and there was a slow, but strong growing need for a revolution in the city. Edward and his colleagues often talked about it whenever they spoke together late at night in front of the fire.

"Is Adams really going to defend those soldiers?" one man asked.

"It would appear so," Sarah heard her father reply. "More than likely it'll be the end of his legal career, and no doubt the people of Boston will have even less love for a man like John."

"Poor Abby," the man who asked the question. "She's a dear sweet woman too." There was a hint of a smile in his voice. John Adams was probably one of the best lawyers in Boston, so it was no surprise that the soldiers accused would seek his help. It was a short moment before someone spoke again.

"Do you really suspect the colonies will rise up against the Crown?" one of the men asked.

"Not all at once," another replied shortly. "Most of the colonists want to keep peace. They don't care nor want to have a revolution." The man paused and took a puff from his tobacco pipe.

"Are you saying you don't want to fight someday, Charles?" the same voice from earlier asked, his tone unreadable to Sarah's ears. She leaned in closer to hear more. The conversation was getting so interesting now.

"All I'm saying is that, even if the colonists do indeed rise up, we'll only be heading towards our destruction. We are almost entirely dependent on the Crown. To secede from our greatest benefactor would be suicidal and the colonies would be spiraling headfirst into our own destruction." Charles explained in a rather calm voice.

"We'll see how long the Sons of Liberty last," one of the men said curtly and a couple men grunted in reply.

It made sense in Sarah's mind, but she also realized that after what happened back in March, what some have called the Boston Massacre, there would be more growing resentment amongst the colonists. Sooner or later, they would want to put their words of fighting into action. Soon the conversation shifted towards matters of business and Sarah felt her interest waning. She tiptoed back upstairs and into the room she shared with Susanna. Who were the Sons of Liberty?

Her twin was still awake, reading by candlelight. She looked up and saw Sarah carefully avoiding the floorboards that creaked while she changed into her nightgown.

"What did they talk about tonight?" Susanna whispered. Sarah leaped into bed and pulled the covers over her, the cool September air seeping through the walls.

"They talked about business and the goings on in Parliament. One of Papa's friends said that it's too unfair for the Crown to tax us so without us being properly represented. But they also talked about the colonists rising up against the king."

Susanna's eyes went wide with bewilderment. Normally she didn't care for the things Sarah brought back from the conversations she overheard their father talked about, but this was too interesting to ignore.

"What?" she asked closing her book.

Sarah nodded. "Yes, one of Papa's friends, Mister Charles I believe, thinks it would be unwise for the colonies to do so. Since we are heavily dependent on them, Mister Charles believes we will head towards our own destruction."

"My word," Susanna breathed. The two sat in silence together while the candle still flickered. The voices downstairs had died down so Susanna blew out the candle and laid down with Sarah following suit.

"Sarah?"

"Yes?"

"Do you really think the colonies will rise up against the king?"

Sarah thought a moment. At first she wanted to say no, because Charles was right and that if they were to gain independence, no doubt their newly formed country would fall in a matter of months. But as she thought about it, and recalled the growing resentment of her fellow Bostonians towards the British, it was only a matter of time before a revolution would break out and they would gain independence. Either they fight and die for liberty, or die from the suffocation of feeling oppressed.

"If we do fight," Sarah began, "I pray that it will be swift and easy, with little bloodshed as possible."

* * *

At first Ratonhnhaké:ton was livid that Achilles left him in Boston. Sure, Samuel Adams had been helpful in getting him back and teaching him how to lower his notoriety, but the fact that his own mentor abandoned him was a bitter medicine to swallow. But time heals all wounds, and the training helped Ratonhnhaké:ton forget his anger towards his mentor. At the end of the day, all he cared about was protecting his people.

As the months wore on, Ratonhnhaké:ton felt a change within himself both physically and mentally. He became stronger and faster, but he also became more observant and patient. With all his lessons, his notice of the world became more broad and open. It was all for the best and would help him protect his people.

It was September when Ratonhnhaké:ton went back to Boston. Achilles needed him to pick up some more supplies to renovate the house as their current stash was starting to run low, plus Achilles needed another pair of hands to help reshingle the roof. His mentor sent a note to Sam notifying him that Ratonhnhaké:ton was on his way. Despite not having the best memories of the city, the teen was nonetheless excited to be going back. Hopefully the guards will have forgotten his face by now.

After traveling for a little over three days, and avoiding the dangerous wildlife, Ratonhnhaké:ton had made it to Boston in one piece. Ratonhnhaké:ton was told to meet Sam near the wharves and in a city like Boston, spotting a Native on horseback wasn't very hard to miss.

"Connor!" Sam shouted, waving his hand to get his attention. Ratonhnhaké:ton lead his horse to the older man, and walked the last few feet towards him. "Hello Connor!" Sam greeted shaking the youth's hand. "How have you been?"

"I've been well," Ratonhnhaké:ton replied politely, a small smile on his face. He and Sam exchanged pleasantries while he tied up the horse walked towards the direction of the store.

"How has your training been?" Sam asked.

"Time consuming," Ratonhnhaké:ton said in a flat voice. "Achilles leaves me little free time and most of my day consists of both mental and physical training."

"Is that really so bad though?" Sam asked with a laugh. "It'll benefit you in the end and help you protect your people like you promised. I'm sure they'd be extremely proud of you." He finished with a genuine smile. Something about that smile made Ratonhnhaké:ton feel at ease and he returned the gesture.

"Thank you," he replied in his usual polite tone. Sam nodded and they continued towards the store in a comfortable silence. Though it didn't last long since they had reached the store in a very short time.

"Here we are!" Sam said as he opened the door. A small bell rang when the door opened. At first when they both walked in, there was no one behind the counter, but there was the sound of distant shuffling footsteps. "Edward?" Sam called.

A man appeared behind the counter. To Ratonhnhaké:ton he looked to be in his late 30s or early 40s, with soft blue eyes and a kind face. He was a little short, but he looked as if his height didn't bother him.

"Ah! Connor, I'd like you to me Mister Edward Townsend," Sam gestured towards the man smiling at the both of them. No doubt Ratonhnhaké:ton's clothes made the man a little uneasy, but he did a very job not to show it. "He's a very good friend of mine and he'll get you what you need and for a discount too since he owes me a debt."

"A debt for what?" Ratonhnhaké:ton asked, slightly curious. He looked between the two men as he took the list Achilles gave him from his pocket.

"Let's just say it wasn't my proudest moment in playing cards," Edward laughed uneasily. He waved his hand dismissing the subject. "What can I get you, Connor?" Ratonhnhaké:ton handed him the list and Edward looked over it. "This is fairly reasonable. Are you taking this all back with you, or would you like it delivered?"

"Which ever is easy for you," Ratonhnhaké:ton answered. The man seemed to be busy enough.

"I'll have my son make a bag of supplies for you and you can take it back that way," Edward replied, gathering the smaller items from the shelves behind him.

"Is Benjamin here?" Sam asked. "I haven't seen him for a while. How's he doing?"

"Ben's doing well, thank you!" Edward said allocating the items on the other side of the counter. "But he's running an errand for me, but he'll be back soon." Sam nodded and continued talking business with Edward while Ratonhnhaké:ton wondered around the store observing all the different kinds of wares on sale.

Things such as dried goods hung from the ceiling while different boxes of tea took an entire section of wall. Ratonhnhaké:ton took a box, opened the lid, and smelled the tea leaves. To him it smelled like horse dung. He reeled back and placed the box back on the shelf. How Achilles could drink something that tasted so foul was beyond him.

Next Ratonhnhaké:ton looked at the different fabrics. All of them were very soft and smooth to the touch with different shades of green, blue, purple, and red. No doubt they would make beautiful dresses. The door opened and the bell chimed again. Ratonhnhaké:ton turned around and saw a girl his age walk inside. Her face looked familiar, and she was very pretty in Ratonhnhaké:ton's eyes, even if her dress did seem rather plain to the ones he saw on the street.

Ratonhnhaké:ton couldn't imagine himself forgetting her green eyes.

"Papa!" she greeted trotting towards him a bright smile on her face. Edward smiled and hugged his daughter from over the counter. He held her at arms length and quirked an eyebrow.

"Are you Sarah or Susanna?" he joked, already laughing. The girl laughed.

"I'm Sarah," she giggled. "Who else calls you Papa?" The man hugged her one more time and asked why she was here when it was so close to dinnertime. "Mother wanted me to come fetch you since supper is almost ready, and Ben too."

"Is this really Sarah?" Sam asked, smiling like he hadn't seen an old friend for a long time. The girl nodded and gave a small curtsy. Apparently Sam and Edward were very good friends and have been for a long while judging by how they were all talking.

"Hello Mister Adams," Sarah greeted with a smile.

"I swear Edward, your daughters get more handsome every year. No doubt you have your hands full with suitors pining for them." Sam joked. Edward gave a small laugh in return. He probably didn't think it was as funny, Ratonhnhaké:ton thought.

"Just one really," Edward replied. "I've arranged for my Sarah to George Pickard's son, William when Sarah comes of age."

Sam nodded thoughtfully. "A fine match!" Then his eyes lit up, almost as if he forgot something. "Sarah, I'd like you to meet Connor. He's a new friend of mine. He's from the Mohawk tribe." Samuel smiled at Ratonhnhaké:ton and beckoned for him to come and meet this girl. Feeling a little uncomfortable, Ratonhnhaké:ton swallowed nervously and took shy steps towards her. Sarah's eyes lit up as she immediately recognized him.

"Nice to meet you," Ratonhnhaké:ton said in a small, shy voice. Sarah just stood there, almost amazed that she was seeing this boy again. After momentarily forgetting her manners, Sarah coughed and curtsied.

"The pleasure is all mine," she replied in an easy voice.

"Sarah, Mister Adams and I have some business to discuss. Why don't you find some tea to bring home since we're almost out?" Edward asked.

"Yes Papa," Sarah nodded and walked towards the numerous shelves of tea. She wasn't really paying attention to the tea labels. What Sarah really wanted to do was talk to the boy, but he seemed really shy. So, being the brave one, Sarah went up to him first.

"Hello Connor," she said with a bright smile. He was looking over the different fabrics on display and tried to hide the fact that we he was blushing. Ratonhnhaké:ton remembered when he first came to Boston and stared at a woman whom he thought was pretty, and how Achilles poked him with his cane to make his staring stop. Ratonhnhaké:ton was trying his best not to stare at a pretty girl again.

"Hello," was his (still) shy reply. Sarah inwardly frowned. He wasn't much of a talker that she could see. It was a shame! He seemed so interesting!

"I think it's really fascinating that you're Native," she said, still smiling. Ratonhnhaké:ton peeked at her from the corner of his eye. Sarah was standing by the window, and the setting sun brought out the blonde in her honey-colored hair.

"Thank you," Ratonhnhaké:ton replied trying not to trip over his words. Not skipping a beat, Sarah spoke again.

"I remember you," she said in a low voice so her father wouldn't hear. "Back in March, when all those soldiers fired at the crowd by the Customs House." Ratonhnhaké:ton turned his head and looked at Sarah, almost guiltily. Now he remembered her. He ran past her and what he assumed to be her brother that night. The way Sarah looked at him that night, he couldn't remember. Most of that night was a blur in his mine. But, Sarah didn't think he actually did fire the first shot, did she?

"I don't believe that you're the one who did it," Sarah said in a calm voice. "I think you're innocent. I remember the look in your eyes that night and most criminals don't have that look when they're running for their lives."

The two just looked at each other, appreciative of the silence between them. Sarah flashed him one last smile before grabbing a box of tea and joining her father. Ratonhnhaké:ton had wanted to say something, but thought against it. Moments like that don't require words.

"Ben will have your things ready soon," Edward said with a polite smile. "Good evening Sam, Connor." He nodded his head at the both of them and linked his arm with Sarah's. "I look forward to seeing you both soon."

Sarah gave a brief curtsy. "Good to see you again Mister Adams, Connor." She gave Ratonhnhaké:ton one last smile before leaving with her father and walking down the street with him.

Ben had come back a few minuets ago and readied the bag for Ratonhnhaké:ton to take back with him whenever he was ready. Ratonhnhaké:ton thanked Ben and paid him the money and took the bag outside. It was slightly heavy, but nothing he couldn't handle. Once he and Sam were out and about, Ratonhnhaké:ton asked him, "How do you know that man?"

"Who? Edward?" Ratonhnhaké:ton nodded. "We went to school together and maintained a very strong friendship since boyhood. I've been trying to get him to join the Sons of Liberty, but he thinks it's unwise."

"Why does he think that?"

"Edward believes that achieving independence from the Crown is folly and bound to end in failure," Sam explained. "But, many still think like that. We'll see what they really think when the fighting starts."

"You really think that will happen?"

Sam looked at Ratonhnhaké:ton and smirked. "It's only a matter of time."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: So, I wake up this morning, see the my iPhone has exploded with a whole bunch of email notifications from , and it's all these notices of people adding this story to their favorites, subscribing and reviewing and it just put the biggest smile on my face. **

**Thank you so much to those that reviewed and added this story to your email alerts! And NyaPower and BritBookWorm, you get 10 Awesome Points because you got the reference.**

**No spoilers in this chapter, so no need to fret.**

* * *

"So, what did you think of Mister Townsend?" Samuel asked once he and Ratonhnhaké:ton made it back to the latter's horse. Sam helped fasten the rucksack onto the back of the horse while Ratonhnhaké:ton pondered the question.

"He seems admirable enough," the teen began. "Good in his line of work and a trustworthy man." He fastened the rucksack, making sure that it wouldn't slip or loosen on the ride back home. Once Ratonhnhaké:ton was sure that it was secure, he mounted his horse and grabbed the reins.

"You're a good judge of character, Connor." Sam began to say as he stood by the horse. "I've been trying to get Edward to join the Sons of Liberty for weeks now. Ever since that mess back in March, it would be a great asset to our cause having a resourceful man like him on our side."

"I would think, but he strikes me as the type of man not take any allegiance, even if it may benefit him," Ratonhnhaké:ton added leading the horse away from the stable. Sam easily kept up beside him, nodding and processing the information.

_His opinion is just_, Sam thought and smiled thoughtfully. "I saw you speaking with Sarah. How did you find her?" there was slight amusement behind that smile, Ratonhnhaké:ton noticed. How did he find her?

"Well," Ratonhnhaké:ton began, trying to find the right words. "I found her very kind, genuine of heart." The teen found himself blushing as he recalled her striking green eyes and honey colored hair. The kindness in her eyes briefly reminded Ratonhnhaké:ton of his mother, the more he thought. It brought a faint smile to his face, but quickly went back to his serious demeanor. He inwardly didn't want Sam Adams thinking he fancied her. Which he didn't, she was just pretty.

"I also need to find someone skilled in repairing roofs. Do you know anyone?" Ratonhnhaké:ton asked, his serious tone back in full force. Sam's amused smile never faltered. Little did Ratonhnhaké:ton know, that Sam caught that very brief smile.

"I do, his name is Daniel Whilcott. I'll notify him that you need his services. Where is your homestead close to?"

"It's three days east of Boston," Ratonhnhaké:ton replied. "Just tell him to follow the convoy trail and he won't miss it. Thank you, Sam."

"My pleasure Connor. And should you need my help again, please do not hesitate to ask." Ratonhnhaké:ton nodded his thanks and made his way past the wharves towards the edge of the city. Sam shook his head, still amused by the young man. That smile, no matter how faint it may have been, said enough. Samuel Adams thought to himself as he made his way to the Sons of Liberty meeting tonight.

_Very interesting indeed_, he thought.

* * *

As she walked back to the house with her father, Sarah recalled the very brief conversation she had with Connor. She thought him to very interesting, and even though the last thing she said to him wasn't exactly proper conversation, it felt right to tell him. Perhaps Sarah wanted to let Connor know that there were some colonists who didn't think that Natives were more than savages? Who could say, only that Sarah wanted to see him again and learn why the guards were chasing him in the first place. Sarah kicked herself for thinking to ask that earlier.

"You seem deep in thought child." Edward observed. His daughter had a far-off look in her eyes that was slightly concerning to him. Was she thinking about that Indian that had come to his store earlier? For some reason, Edward hoped that wasn't it.

"Ah? Oh, yes, I suppose I am," Sarah said once she had snapped back to reality. She smiled suddenly remembered Sam Adams giving her and her siblings candy whenever he visited their father. "It was lovely seeing Mister Adams again. Perhaps he should come to dinner one night?"

"Perhaps," Edward thought, nodding his head. It had been a long while since Sam had come to dinner. Margret was a gracious host and it would be a wonderful opportunity for her and Sam to become reacquainted. Ben was probably at the house by now, Edward briefly thought.

"Papa?" Sarah asked. Something in her voice seemed cautious, almost as if she were afraid to ask her question. Edward's fatherly instinct kicked in and he became slightly worried.

"What is it, child?" he asked.

"Must I really marry William Pickard?" there may have been a slight pout, but Edward didn't really seem to notice. Ever since he proposed the match between Sarah and Will, she never once complained, and it was rather obvious that Will was smitten with Sarah. To hear this now came as a surprise for Edward.

"Why do you ask, Sarah? You never said a word of complaint till now," Edward mentioned looking at his daughter with concern.

"Oh Papa," Sarah sighed as her shoulders drooped as if overwhelmed with weight. "William is handsome, but I find it so hard to…enjoy his company. 'is true he comes from a well-off and respected family, but Papa I find him to be horribly dull!"

Edward never said a word while Sarah spoke. He took in her words with silence. Despite Sarah being the more ration and level-minded of his children, she was also one of the more idealistic ones, constantly reading fairytales and dreaming of knights in armor. Edward smiled and patted her hand.

"I'm honestly surprised to discover that you feel this way, Sarah. Truly I am. But you will be a woman soon, and it is your duty to find and marry a suitable husband; one that will provide for you and protect you. You may not find William Pickard to be interesting now, but I'm sure you'll warm up to him." Edward pinched he chin, making her smile a little. "You'll see, these things just take time."

"Did you marry Mama for love?" Sarah asked looking at her father. For a moment, Edward felt as though he were looking into Franny's face again. More everyday Sarah was starting to become like her mother: headstrong, thoughtful, and kind-hearted. But she had more patience, and that was one of her features that made Sarah shine in Edward's eyes.

"I did, though our marriage was rather shocking. She being Irish and I English, but we still loved each other nonetheless." Edward smiled at his daughter. He pulled her into a tight one-armed hug and led them inside the house.

Susanna and Abby were reading with Margret in the sitting room while Ben was looking over the lasted trades and stocks in the store. When they all heard the door open, the women stopped their reading and welcomed Sarah and Edward home.

"I was beginning to think you two had gotten lost or possibly worse," Margret huffed, yet there was love behind her tone. She really did love Sarah as her own, even if Sarah did not feel it.

"No, not quite," Edward replied hanging his cloak and kissing Margret on the cheek. As Sarah followed Margret into the kitchen, Susanna and Abby pulled their sister aside, curiosity filling their eyes.

"Is it true you met a Native today?" Abby asked in a whisper with her wide, blue eyes. Sarah was honestly confused. Did Ben tell them? She furrowed her brow.

"Well, yes, but where did you hear that?" Sarah replied. Each of her sisters had a different reaction. While Abby looked curious and dying to know more, Susanna looked disapproving.

"What was he like? Did he really have feathers in his hair and beads sewn into his clothes?" Abby asked firing questions after question. Sarah didn't have enough time to examine his clothes. She was a little preoccupied memorizing his face and noticing how brown his eyes were; a color of brown Sarah had never seen before.

"I don't recall feathers in his hair, or beads on his person. He looked…like you and me, just with darker skin and hair. He was not so different from you or me," Sarah answered. Abby looked slightly disappointed, but still genuinely curious. Susanna looked more concerned when Sarah finished explaining. As Abby opened her mouth to ask another question, Margret's sharp voice called from the kitchen.

"Girls! Either you come in here and help my cooking or I'll slap a wooden spoon upside your heads!"

With that, the girls scurried into the kitchen to help their stepmother put the finishing touches on their dinner.

At dinner, Abigail tried asking Sarah more questions about the Native boy that came to their father's shop today, but Margret chided such talk, saying it wasn't proper at the dinner table. Sarah was grateful for that since Susanna kept giving her uneasy looks across the table.

Once Sarah helped put everything away for the night, and wished her father and Margret a safe sleep, Sarah slipped into bed quickly before Susanna could say anything. But they were twins and could always tell when someone was pretending to be asleep so that they could avoid conversation.

"I know you're still awake Sarah," Susanna whispered, poking sharply into her twin's side. Sarah silently hissed and slapped her sister's hand away. Some days she hated having a twin sister, and today was one of those days.

"Why were you disapproving of me talking to a Native?" Sarah harshly whispered sitting up and ruffling the blankets. She was tired and wanted to sleep. The last thing Sarah wanted to do was listening to Susanna trying to 'mother' her.

"Don't think it was a little…odd?" Susanna began, unsure about her own words. Sarah raised an eyebrow. Susanna was never the most eloquent sibling even if she read so many books. Abby was probably the better-spoken one.

"Did I find what odd?" Sarah practically snapped.

"Oh! The whole thing! How a Native just walked into Father's shop buying supplies! Doesn't that strike you as odd?" Susanna argued, taking Sarah's hands in her own. Sarah looked up from their intertwined hands into her twin's eyes. It was like looking into a mirror occasionally, but tonight they couldn't be any more different.

"No," Sarah began "Can a man simply walk into a store and buy supplies without being judged by the color of his skin? He is no different from neither you nor I, apart from the color of his skin or the way he dresses. He is flesh and bone, just like you and me Susanna."

Susanna nervously bit her lip. Her sister really was an idealist, thinking this and that. Did she not see what was wrong with this situation? "But, Sarah, they attack us colonists. As we try to live on the frontier, they attack our homes and murder our own."

"Do we not do the same to them?" Sarah replied back sharply. The history lessons given to them by Margret always described the Natives attacking the early settlers because there were "primitive" and "did not understand", yet in Sarah's mind it was the opposite. But no one thought like that.

"Just be careful if you see him again," Susanna warned after an uneasy silence. She gave Sarah a weak smile before burring her head into the pillow. While Sarah knew that Susanna's concern came from a good place, she couldn't help but feel slightly offended.

_I can take care of myself_, Sarah thought. _And I've helping Papa take care of you since Mama passed away_.

* * *

When Ratonhnhaké:ton returned home, it had started to drizzle and by the time he set foot in the house it evolved into a downpour. He set the sack down carefully and walked towards the dining room where he heard the sound of a fork scrapping a plate. It wasn't that late, so it wasn't a surprise to Ratonhnhaké:ton that Achilles was still awake.

"Welcome back," his mentor greeted not looking up from his plate filled with pork and corn. "How fares Boston?"

To be fair, Boston was a power keg ready to explode. Tensions between the colonists were getting worse every month and it was only a matter of time before it exploded. Ratonhnhaké:ton expressed this to Achilles, to which his mentor gave a small laugh.

"That doesn't surprise me in the slightest. Ever since the massacre, the people of Boston are practically itching for a revolution, yet there is enough resistance to such an idea that puts it off. We'll see what happens next." Ratonhnhaké:ton stood there and absorbed his mentor's words. He always seemed to speak the truth.

"Anyway, when can we expect this damn roof to be shingled?" Achilles asked setting a bucket down where a leak had started forming on the roof.

"Sam Adams is sending us his friend named Daniel Whilcott. He seems to trust his skills," Ratonhnhaké:ton answered. Achilles nodded thoughtfully and began walking towards his room.

"We start tomorrow at first light," he said. "Goodnight Connor."

"Goodnight." Ratonhnhaké:ton walked up the stairs towards his room and placed his bow and arrow on the table opposite of his room. He probably should have eaten dinner, but Ratonhnhaké:ton wasn't that hungry. He stripped down till he only wore his trousers and pulled the covers off his bed. As he laid down, he recalled his trip to Boston. Ratonhnhaké:ton was thankful that the guards didn't know his face and that we was easily able to navigate through the city.

But Sarah stuck out in his mind. While most white men looked at Natives with contempt and suspicion, she looked at him with understanding and curiosity. Ratonhnhaké:ton asked himself why this strange girl, this _white_ girl, could look upon his face and not flinch when he raised his hand.

She was very pretty, with her bright green eyes, fair complexion, and light brown hair. Ratonhnhaké:ton also remembered Sarah being rather tall too, almost his height. Her eyes though…

Looking back, they shined with kindness and determination, but there was also dreaminess to them. It was almost as if Sarah often daydreamed of another life. Ratonhnhaké:ton wondered what a girl like Sarah could possibly long for, considering her family seemed to be well-off and respected. If he had ever had the chance to see her again, he would ask her. Maybe get to know her?

Ratonhnhaké:ton quickly banished that thought. That was ridiculous to think about. It was conflicting enough him being half English and half Mohawk, but to get involved with a colonist was essentially begging for trouble. Besides, after what _he _did… Ratonhnhaké:ton didn't think he could ever trust a colonist. He _tsk-_ed and blew out his candle beside his bed. He needed to sleep. No doubt Achilles would work him hard since he missed an entire week of training.

Ratonhnhaké:ton woke up just before the sun rose and met Achilles downstairs in the main room. The man appeared as though he had just woken up as he rubbed his eyes and yawned. Despite slightly troubling dreams, Ratonhnhaké:ton had slept rather soundly. He was hoping that a bit of training would help clear his head. Or maybe he would visit the Clan Mother and ask her advice.

"Good morning, Connor," Achilles said in his usual raspy voice. He stretched his back and Ratonhnhaké:ton heard a few bones crack. The old man gave a sigh of relief and beckoned for Ratonhnhaké:ton to follow him outside towards the stable area where they worked.

As Achilles shouted and gave order for Ratonhnhaké:ton to follow, the teen found himself fumbling and not executing moves as precisely as he should have.

"No! To the left! Damnit, no! Not like that! Keep your knees bent!" Achilles was becoming more frustrated than usual and his constant corrections were not helping.

"Is a girl distracting you today, Connor?" his mentor snapped at one point. Ratonhnhaké:ton didn't know why he kept seeing Sarah's eyes in his mind. It was getting him ill tempered. As he was getting himself up, Achilles helped him stand. Ratonhnhaké:ton brushed off some of the leaves and dirt that got on his clothes when he fell earlier.

"Take a break, we'll try again later," Achilles said waving him off and walking back towards the house. Ratonhnhaké:ton frowned and wanted to explain things, but decided against it. He figured Achilles would get slightly upset and give him a good verbal thrashing. Instead, Ratonhnhaké:ton decided to head to his village and seek out the Clan Mother for her advice.

His brief walk there was surprisingly calm. Normally there were mountain lions stalking the edge of the valley, but today Ratonhnhaké:ton didn't see any. As he walked through the village many familiar faces greeted him, smiling and saying hello. One face though Ratonhnhaké:ton was very happy to see. It felt heart-warming almost to be back home, among familiar faces and to speak his native tongue again.

"Hello brother!" Kanen'tó:kon waved, a huge smile on his face. He was still chubby to this day. Ratonhnhaké:ton smiled and waited for his friend to catch up with him. "What brings you here? I thought you went to train?"

"I still am, but I am seeking out the Clan Mother today. I need her advice." Ratonhnhaké:ton explained, his voice calm and plain like it usually was. Kanen'tó:kon was used to his friend's aloofness and didn't expect much details from him. Still, he was very curious.

"Advice on what?" he asked as they entered the longhouse.

"I've been having troubling dreams and I'm hoping she will be able to tell me what they mean," Ratonhnhaké:ton explained and effectively ending the conversation as they sat down in front of the fire with the Clan Mother. Her eyes sparkled with affection as the two boys sat down across from her.

"Ratonhnhaké:ton!" she said with a smile. "It is good to see you! How I wish it were more often."

"I need your advice, Clan Mother," Ratonhnhaké:ton explained. He felt a little uneasy having Kanen'tó:kon with him, as the nature of his dreams would probably make his old friend tease him, but he needed some answers.

"What troubles you, child?" the Clan Mother asked poking the fire and adding more wood.

"Last night I had a very strange dream, where I kept hearing a girl's voice, telling me to trust her and I kept seeing her eyes in the bushes and in the trees as if she were observing me, but too frightened to actually approach me. All day I have been seeing her eyes and they distract me from my work."

Kanen'tó:kon looked his longtime friend with concern while Ratonhnhaké:ton started into the fire, lost in thought. The Clan Mother hummed and poked the fire as she took a moment to think.

"Have you met this girl already?" she asked not taking her eyes off the fire.

"I met her in Boston when I was running an errand for my mentor," Ratonhnhaké:ton explained. "Her name is Sarah Townsend." He could already feel the amused look Kanen'tó:kon was giving him, but he ignored it. No doubt he thought it funny that girl was troubling his sleep, even if it had been for one night really.

"Did this 'Sarah Townsend' treat you with respect?" the Clan Mother asked looking at Ratonhnhaké:ton. He nodded and the Clan Mother seemed to have figured out the meaning of his dream. "The pathway to the soul can be seen in the eyes. They show a person's true character and what truly lies in their heart. You say this 'Sarah' treated you with kindness and respect, and that could have been seen in her eyes.

"The reason for your dreams, Ratonhnhaké:ton, is because you want to trust her. Despite what you may feel towards the colonists and what they did to your mother," Ratonhnhaké:ton felt his heart drop when she said that, "you want to give this girl a chance to prove herself, but you are afraid of taking that risk and understandably so. That is why she hides and asks for your trust.

"Her eyes, however, are observing you. She is curious about you and watches from a distance, waiting for you."

"Why would she be waiting for me?" Ratonhnhaké:ton asked. For some reason, he felt slightly offended by that. A girl waiting for him? That was too much of a foreign idea for him to fully grasp.

"She waits for you because she wants your trust." The Clan Mother explained in a simple voice. "Sarah wants to prove that not all colonist are evil, but that we are all…misunderstood." Ratonhnhaké:ton sat there taking in her words, unsure of what to say or do. Kanen'tó:kon looked at his friend with concern while Ratonhnhaké:ton stared into the fire.

_I suppose that makes sense_, Ratonhnhaké:ton thought. But the anger was still fresh and it still hurt. Even though ten years have passed since that day, he couldn't really let go. To let go would feel like he was letting go of his mother. To do that would hurt more than anything.

"What do you propose I try and do so I won't have this dream again?" Ratonhnhaké:ton asked leaning forward. The Clan Woman pursed her lips and thought a moment.

"I cannot tell you what you must do, Ratonhnhaké:ton. Rather, I will tell you that you must find your own path in this. Perhaps if you put your trust in this girl may help heal your wounds," she pointed towards her heart, "but I would be weary. Many colonists are not to be trusted, Ratonhnhaké:ton. I have no doubt that this dream will pass, but be wise."

"Thank you, Clan Mother," Ratonhnhaké:ton replied and stood up. Kanen'tó:kon matched his friend's steps and once they were out in the open, Kanen'tó:kon began asking questions.

"Are you really alright brother?" Kanen'tó:kon asked eyeing his friend with concern. He couldn't help but wonder why a girl would have his closest friend perplexed.

"I'll be fine," Ratonhnhaké:ton replied shortly. He quickly regretted his tone and gave an apologetic look to his friend. He just didn't want to say more than he had to. Ratonhnhaké:ton patted Kanen'tó:kon's slightly protruding belly as he always did. As they walked towards the end of the village, several people waved goodbye and wished Ratonhnhaké:ton safe travels.

"I'll see you soon, brother." He said before leaving the village.

"You as well."


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: No spoilers, no worries. Thank you to those that reviewed! They make me rather happy. **

* * *

A year came and went, and then another. Sarah and Susanna celebrated their seventeenth birthday in January, Abby turned fourteen in June and Ben turned twenty-one in April. The year was 1772 and winter has arrived in full swing. It would be Christmas soon, but no one in Boston seemed to be in a merry mood. The British were resented more and more and harassed daily on the streets.

It was a common sight to see soldiers being tarred and feathered. Sarah had seen only one and that was enough for her. The screams of the poor man as he was stripped from his clothing and had boiling hot tar poured over him… it almost didn't sound human to Sarah's ears.

Sarah never saw Connor after that day in her father's shop and much change had happened between then. As she grew, Sarah felt her body mature; her breasts were larger, her waist narrower, and her hips wider. It was also during this time that Will's visits became more and more frequent. Sarah was slightly annoyed at his near constant presence, but after she confessed how she really felt to her father that day, Sarah continued to bit her lip and hid how she really felt.

Sarah often walked the streets of Boston during the day, hoping to maybe find Connor again, but no such luck. She did think about him from time to time, but Sarah had plenty to worry over than some boy. It still would have been lovely to see him again.

Today in particular though, seemed to be especially cold to Sarah and she wrapped her wool cloak around her tighter. No doubt her cheeks and nose were rosy from the cold. Sarah patted her cheeks to bring some warmth to them. There was some Christmas spirit to been seen in Boston though. A small group of carolers were walking down the street, singing the traditional hymns of Christmas time. It brought a smile to Sarah's face.

Sarah briefly hoped that Papa would love the gift she made him; she actually took the time to sit down and sew him a new waistcoat in his favorite shade of green. Susanna helped sew on the buttons since Sarah had trouble making sure that her stitches were tight so that the buttons stayed in place. Sarah probably would have made him a matching coat, but since he had been sick with tuberculosis, her and Ben had been running the shop while Papa was recovering. It kept her busy and she barely finished the waistcoat in time for Christmas.

He seemed to be getting better though, as Papa could go on for hours without going into a fit of coughing. Sarah hoped that he would be better before Christmas Day. He was supposed to be working in the shop with Ben today since he was feeling up to it, so Sarah decided to pay him a small visit to see if he was well.

"Sarah! Sarah Townsend!" she heard someone call. Sarah looked all around her till she found someone waving in her direction. It was Will, smiling in her direction. He held a large crate in his hand and set it down on the back of a wagon. Even though Sarah didn't really want to speak to him, it would have been impolite to do so after he spotted her on the street.

Gathering her skirts in her hand so she could walk easier, Sarah gave Will her most polite smile and walked up to him.

_How I'd rather see if Papa is doing well_, Sarah thought. After years of successfully hiding her feelings, it was easy for Sarah to hide her mild annoyance.

"Hello sweetheart," William beamed. That was another thing that bothered Sarah about Will. Now that they were both older, he had taken to calling names like "Love", "Dearest", and "Sweet pea". But his personal favorite was "Sweetheart." For the sake of a successful union, Sarah played along.

"Hello darling," she said. Even when she breathed in, the cold air nipped at her insides. She shivered and rubbed her arms to keep warm.

"What are you doing out on your own?" William asked placing the last crate on the back of the cart. "You're all set Master Whilom!" he turned and gave Sarah a concerned look. He really did care for her. It was a shame Sarah couldn't return his feelings, though she did have respect for him. But she was concerned about other things to fret over him like she probably should have. Whilom gave the command to his horse and he was off in a matter of minuets.

"I was on my way to see my father," Sarah explained. "He was struck by a bout of tuberculosis and even though he claims to be feeling better, I wanted to see for myself. He meant to work in the shop today. I only wanted to check on him."

William gave Sarah a warm, appreciative smile. "You've always been so dedicated to your family, Sarah. That's what I find so beautiful about you." Sarah returned the smile, but sometimes she found herself wishing that she could do things for herself without having to worry about her family or how her actions will impact them. To be totally and utterly independent was something Sarah found herself dreaming about from time to time.

"I'm on my way to see your father now. I have some business matters I need to discuss with him." William held out his arm for Sarah to take, which she did with a small smile. He really was handsome, especially as the snow fell around them, making the yellow in his hair and eyes stand out. Perhaps one day she could love him?

Sarah inwardly frowned. She could see herself possibly loving Will, but it wouldn't be as passionate as to what he felt for her. A pity, since they did have many things in common and could have interesting conversations.

They walked together in a comfortable silence towards the store as the snow continued to fall and carolers could be heard here and there throughout the streets. William was respectful and kept his hands to himself, something Sarah admired about Will. As she unlinked her arm with Will's, Sarah opened the door and called out for her father.

"Papa?"

"Mister Townsend?" Will also called. It was deadly quiet in the store Sarah realized- too quiet. She pulled her hood down and ran into the back room. What she saw made her scream and had Will running towards her. What he saw made his heart stop.

Sarah held the body of her father and blood poured out of his mouth. The right side of his face was splashed with blood and spittle. Sarah sobbed violently and rocked back and forth, calling for her father.

"No, Papa! No!" Sarah sobbed. Her eyes were red and puffy and she looked at Will with desperation. "Send help!" Will was out of the shop before Sarah uttered another word.

Sarah continued to call for her father. His breathing was faint so she hoped that he could hear her.

"Please Papa," she begged through her tears. "Don't go…" Where was Ben? Why wasn't he here to help their father? Anger built up inside Sarah and she cried even more. She could feel the blood soaking her cloak and dress, but she didn't care. She needed her father here. Not the one stricken with tuberculosis, but the one who always gave sound advice and would laugh with her; the strong figure in her life that always gave her courage. Edward faintly coughed and some more blood spat out from his mouth.

"Papa?" Sarah sniffed. Was it possible that he was coming back? Hope filled her heart and Sarah looked into her father's face for a sign of life. His once lively blue eyes fluttered and he gaped at the ceiling, as if astounded by some vision.

"Franny… My love," he whispered, "I'm coming." His body went limp in Sarah's arms only seconds after he spoke.

Once will came back with a doctor, it was too late. Sarah was crying over her father's body, refusing to let go. Will had to pull her off while the doctor went to get his assistant to help him move the body.

"No! No, no, no!" Sarah protested through her tears. He couldn't be gone… He just couldn't… Sarah sat on the small chair completely in shock while Will spoke to the doctor. Her entire body shook and she could only stare at the body in the corner covered with a thin white sheet. The assistant tried to help Sarah but she kept shooing him away.

"How long was he stricken with tuberculosis?" the doctor asked.

"About a few months," Will answered. "But he was starting to get better and wanted to come back to work. I suppose he collapsed moments before we walked in."

"I see," the doctor mussed. "Has he any other family?"

"A wife, a son, and three daughters. His son of age, so I have no doubt he will take care of the legal matters."

"Terrible, terrible business," the doctor shook his head and looked at Sarah. "Your fiancée is in shock right now, but she will recover. Just only give her time. I recommend three cups of tea a day to help relax the body and to help her sleep."

"Thank you doctor," Will shook the man's hand and watched as the doctor and his assistant dragged the body outside. Will rubbed his hand on Sarah's back, but she still kept looking at the corner where the body once was.

"Sarah?" he asked faintly. She uttered no response. Sarah continued to look at that space for a few more moments before leaving the back room, took something off the shelf and poured it over the bloodstain. It reeked of chemicals and Will assumed she was going to try and wash the blood away.

"Get me hot water and a mop," was all she said. Will nodded his head and left without saying anything.

* * *

"Faulkner was asking for you the other day. Supposedly the _Aquila _has been fully prepared and wants to show you." Achilles said once he and Ratonhnhaké:ton had finished the latter's bit of training for the day. The teen was out of breath and leaned on his knees to try and catch his breath.

Normally he would have made a remark about why Achilles didn't say anything earlier, but he decided against it, deciding there was some valid reason behind it all. There usually was.

Over the past two years Ratonhnhaké:ton had worked harder than before, with Achilles pushing him past to what he thought were his limits. Soon every move, swing, and action came as easy as breathing. Ratonhnhaké:ton's mind felt sharper and more powerful. The mind is always a valued weapon; that was something Achilles always drilled in Ratonhnhaké:ton's head.

He did think about Sarah sometimes. Some nights he'd dream that dream of her, where she was asking him to trust her. The Clan Mother was right though. It was getting easier to deal with. He hadn't been to Boston since he ran that errand, but news about the city was always going on. Tensions were rising more it seemed everyday on Boston. That city seemed to be at the center of this situation it seemed. Ratonhnhaké:ton inwardly hoped that Sarah and Sam Adams were doing well despite everything.

It had taken a little over two years for Faulkner to repair the _Aquila_, and Ratonhnhaké:ton hoped that the money had been well-spent. Although he didn't show it, Ratonhnhaké:ton was very curious to step foot on a ship for the first time.

The very next morning Ratonhnhaké:ton walked towards the docks, excitement building up inside him. What would the ship look like he wondered? Was it really as fast as Faulkner said? Ratonhnhaké:ton would find out soon since by the time he was walking on the dock boards, Faulkner had already spotted him.

"Come aboard and feast your eyes, boy!" Faulkner greeted, a broad smile on his face and pride sparkling in his eyes. He looked slightly cleaner today. His beard trimmed and clothes that were once caked with dirt looked clean pressed. Perhaps this was a very special day for Faulkner? Ratonhnhaké:ton was slightly confused as to how a man could be proud of a boat, or _ship_, but nonetheless, he was still excited to take a ride on his first ship. As Ratonhnhaké:ton stepped onto plank, Faulkner began to protest.

"No, no, no, no, no, no! Not the left foot, terrible luck! Step with your right foot first!" Ratonhnhaké:ton cautiously stepped with his right foot first, but Faulkner's relaxed face helped reassure him that he was doing something right. Once Ratonhnhaké:ton was on deck he felt around the ship, knocking on the posts and tugging on ropes.

"She is…solid," Ratonhnhaké:ton said, not really sure if he was using the right words. He wasn't very savvy on nautical terms. That didn't seem to bother Faulkner as he nodded his head in agreement.

"Aye! Weatherly and sleek. She'll run 12 knots in stiff gale, ne'er a ship from here to Singapore can outrun her on her best day," Faulkner said patting Ratonhnhaké:ton on the back and walking the deck with him. "What d'ya say we take her out to sea? Stretch her legs a bit?"

"Where would we go?" Ratonhnhaké:ton asked. Honestly he didn't think Achilles would allow him to leave for a long while, but it was so tempting. Ratonhnhaké:ton had never been out at sea before.

"As it happens, she still needs guns and the officers to command them. We'll launch straight away!" Ratonhnhaké:ton nodded a little uneasily. "And don't worry lad, I'll make sure you sprout good sea legs."

Faulkner's reassuring smile helped ease Ratonhnhaké:ton's worries a little, still, there was always that factor of uncertainty. He watched Faulkner walk up towards the wheel and call out commands that Ratonhnhaké:ton only half understood. But as the ship began to leave the bay and headed out towards the open sea, he couldn't stop the smile from coming on his face.

"This is amazing!" the teen shouted leaning on the rail to get a better look. The way the sun hit the water blinded him, but Ratonhnhaké:ton didn't care. The thrill of it all was invigorating! As he continued to look out, the sun began to drop lower and lower and the sky glowed orange and yellow, reminding Ratonhnhaké:ton the afternoon he spent in Edward Townsend's shop, talking to Sarah. A relaxed smile played upon his lips as the ship continued to sail. Despite the cold, winter wind everything seemed to be…perfect in that moment.

He should have said goodbye to Achilles at least… Ratonhnhaké:ton felt a pang of guilt for not doing so. He hoped that his mentor would forgive him when he returned, whenever that would be. Hopefully it wouldn't be long.

* * *

Sarah was genuinely surprised at how many people came to pay respects to her father. It seemed as if the church would burst at any moment should another person walk in. It had been a week since Sarah held her dying father in her arms and she rarely slept or ate. Margret grieved and the added stress to Sarah's zombie-like state did not help. It was Abby and Ben who got Sarah to eat again and to get some sleep, even if it only was for a couple hours.

Will had been very kind towards her, staying close to her to make sure that she was alright. Ben had been annoyed by his constant presence. One night he called him a "pestering fly" at the dinner table. When he said that, it had been the first time Sarah smiled in days. The only person who seemed to really enjoy Will's company was Susanna. Though, Sarah's twin had taken her father's passing just as hard as Sarah.

It was a mess; one giant mess having to deal with a house full of mourners.

Ben took over the shop and handled the situation very gracefully. He didn't want to be bothered with people's apologies whenever they walked into the shop however.

"I'm not here to discuss my father's death," he would say. "I'm here to do business with you." Though he did accept their condolences, Ben would quickly change the subject. It was odd too, seeing Will and Susanna becoming closer as he helped Sarah grieve. Ben took notice of this and found it rather curious. Ben remembered Sarah telling him how if she could avoid marrying Will, she would. Even now, he sat beside her, holding her hand and rubbing it with his thumb.

Ben watched William whisper to Sarah that things would be okay, that he would be thee for her. But even though Sarah smiled at him, her eyes gave her away. There was nothing but emptiness in her eyes. There was even more little love for William.

_Technically_ he was head of the household now, maybe he could…

"And now, Edward's widow would like to say a few words," the preacher said. With a determined grace, Margret slowly walked up the steps towards the podium, several people clapping and whispering, "God bless her, and her family."

Sarah didn't listen to her mother's sermon. She wanted to run outside in the cold; she wanted to feel that shock of the brisk winter air. She wanted to _feel_ something, anything. This past week all Sarah could feel was sadness and anger.

Ben tried telling her things like, "Remember what Father said when Mother died? That we needed to be strong? That's what you need to do now, Sarah. You need to be strong not only for Susanna and Abby, but also for yourself."

_He doesn't understand_, Sarah thought in her head. _He doesn't know what it was like to hold our father in my arms as I watched him die, his last words calling for our mother. He would never understand_.

Everyone clapped once Margret finished speaking. She joined her stepfamily where they sat and blew he nose into a handkerchief. Ben was next to speak about their father, but Sarah felt herself snapping at the seams. These four white walls were suffocating… she couldn't breath… she had to get out. Ben was only a few words into his sermon when Sarah ripped her hand from Will's and ran out into the snow.

Though her body shook as she cried, no tears fell from her eyes. Sarah leaned onto a tree so she wouldn't fall. Her knees felt weak and Sarah feared of her legs giving out from her weight. She begged for her father, for the long-lost mother she once had; for a time that seemed like forever ago. Whenever she closed her eyes all Sarah could see was her father's blood and blue eyes as they dimmed when he died. That's why she couldn't sleep, wouldn't sleep.

_There was so much blood_…

"Sarah?" Ben asked walking out into the snow. Sarah looked behind her. Ben was slowly walking towards her, his hand held out for her and his burning with concern for her. Some of the mourners had formed a group behind him and watched with curious eyes as to what would happen next.

_They're animals, wanting only to see what will happen next. They don't care, they never did_…

"Come back inside, sis," Ben said gently trying to get Sarah to calm down. The cold air stung her lungs whenever she took a breath, but Sarah couldn't help but revel in it. She could feel something other than hurt; pain was becoming a lovely substitute. Sarah just continued to stare at her brother with wild eyes. When he was close enough, Ben delicately placed his hand on her shoulder and that's when Sarah broke down again.

"He died in my arms, Ben!" she sobbed. "He died right there in my arms and that's all I see when I close my eyes! I can't close my eyes, I just can't!"

"I know Sarah, I know," he said soothingly. Ben was always so protective of his siblings, even more so now. "But he's with our mother now. You must realize that he's with her again." Sarah sobbed even more after hearing that. She barely remembered her mother. All she could bring to her memory were soft, warm hugs and a tune to a lullaby she found herself humming sometimes.

Sarah just let her brother hug her while she cried. She was so tired, but not really from the lack of sleep. It was from all the crying Sarah did at night. She could hear her father's voice in her head, saying she needed to be strong; that so many people loved her and that she needed to be strong for them.

_Ben is right too. I need to be strong for myself as well_.

Once Sarah had calmed down, she stood firm in her shoes, practically filled with resolve. She wiped her tears away and coughed. Looking upon the crowd and their pitying faces, Sarah found her voice.

"I apologize for the disturbance I caused," she said in a loud voice even though her voice trembled and cracked. "Let us go back inside. The snow is no proper place for a funeral." Sarah was the first to walk back inside and take her seat back. The crowd looked at her as though she had gone mad and muttered amongst themselves as they walked back inside and took their seats.

Ben sat beside his sister, smiling at her. Almost as if to say, "I'm proud of you."

The service was over relatively quick and everyone paid their last respects as Edward's grave was being filled.

"What happens now?" Abigail asked once everyone had left and the grave had been filled in completely.

_Here lies Edward James Townsend. Beloved husband and father, friend to all. 14 September 1720 to 15 December 1772_

"Well, Ben takes over the shop and we try to move on, for Papa's sake." Sarah said. "Even he wouldn't want us living in the past." Margret nodded and patted Sarah lightly on the shoulder. She smiled warmly at her stepdaughter and led them back to their home. Once they were only a short distance away from their home did Will call for Sarah.

"If there is anything I can do for you family, please do not hesitate to ask," he said. Sarah nodded gratefully and walked inside.

"Will, may I have a word with you?" Ben asked leading Will a little ways away from the door.

"What is it?" Will asked.

"Since I am now head of my father's household, that means I have a say in some of the affairs he left behind." Will looked puzzled and waited for Ben to continue. "It has come to my attention that the match between you and Sarah doesn't seem to be as favorable as it once was. And to be quite honest, Sarah never really returned your feelings of affection."

Will looked at Ben with a combination of hurt and anger. "Sir, if you mean to mock my honor-!"

"Oh, no! Heaven's no!" Ben argued. "I'm simply stating that Sarah isn't ready for marriage, but rather… have you considered Susanna? You two have been getting close these past few days and I can't help but wonder if she would be a better match for you."

Will quirked an eyebrow and meant to reply, but Ben wished him a goodnight before any more words could be said. And so William Pickard stood there in the snow, dumbfounded and wondering if his honor had been compromised.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Nothing too big on spoilers here. Ratonhnhaké:ton gets a ship and becomes a sailor, that's pretty much it. Thank you for your lovely reviews! Keep 'em coming, please!**

* * *

It was a solemn Christmas, for Sarah at least. Hardly any words were said over dinner and during the exchanging of gifts it wasn't as merry as it usually was. Ever since Edward passed away an eerie silence fell over the house. It was almost unnerving, especially for Sarah. The nightmares were barely starting to become tolerable.

Dark circles formed under her eyes and the lack of sleep made Sarah irritable and most of the household avoided her, save for Ben. Because she helped their father run the store after their mother died, he often asked for her help or advice on how to manage the store. That was mostly kept behind closed doors since it was rather uncommon for a woman to be involved in business.

Sarah lost weight as well and her already pale complexion became even more so. Margret constantly fretted over Sarah, though it only annoyed her even more. Sarah had to constantly reassure her stepmother that she was well. By Christmastide, Sarah was slowly, but surely starting to become her old self. Sarah gave Ben the waistcoat she made for their father. Naturally Ben declined the gift, but Sarah insisted that their father would have wanted him to have it, and it didn't help that she refused to sell it.

It was a fine waistcoat and bound to have fetched a good price, but Sarah refused and Ben had taken to wearing the waistcoat with pride. Along with the (surprising) matching coat Susanna had managed to make. All that was missing were stockings made by Abigail, but instead she had knitted a quilt for the family to share.

For Christmas, Sarah had received a book of almanac titled _Poor Richard's Almanac_ written by a man named Benjamin Franklin, Susanna had sewn her a new bonnet, and Abby had knitted her a pair of gloves. But Ben's Christmas gift was the best in her opinion; Sarah couldn't imagine how he could have afforded it, but he had given her to small miniature portraits of the parents.

He had given it Sarah after everyone left for bed that night. Seeing their parents' likeness overwhelmed Sarah and she managed to hold back her tears.

_No more crying_, she told herself. _I need to be strong like how Papa would want __me to_.

Sarah had trouble remembering her mother's face. According to Ben, the portrait of their mother was accurate. In the portrait, she looked rather stout, but still beautiful nonetheless. She had wide, but sharp green eyes, bright red hair that had a natural curl to it, a fair complexion, a somewhat small nose, and full lips with a prominent Cupid's bow on her upper lip.

The more Sarah looked at the portrait of her mother, the more she realized how much she looked like her. Should Sarah had been born with red hair, she would have looked almost exactly like her mother. It was uncanny, too crazy to really think about.

Sarah gave Ben the tightest hug she could muster and safely hid their portraits in her closet. She had a feeling that Susanna or Abigail would be jealous if they had seen the gift Ben had given her. Because of all the madness of her father's passing, Sarah rarely thought about Connor. The only thing Sarah seemed able to think about was helping her family.

"They need me," she would repeat to herself over and over as if it were a prayer. Ben was the sole provider of the house now and would probably need all the help he could get to keep the family afloat. Will's father decided to do more business with the Townsends in order to help Ben provide for his family, something everyone seemed to be thankful for and understandably so.

Out of thanks, Margret invited them to share dinner with them a few days after Christmas. Shortly after the funeral of their father, Ben had decided that the match between Sarah and Will would not work out favorably since Sarah had taken their father's passing harder than her other siblings.

Susanna seemed to be recovering better from her father's death and during the past few days, she and Will had been getting closer than Sarah and Will were in the past. The two were officially engaged shortly after the New Year when Sarah and Susanna turned eighteen on January 16.

At first Will's father, George, was curious as to why Ben was breaking off the marriage. Ben had a magical tongue when it came to business and Sarah wasn't sure how he did it, but he managed to convince George that a marriage between Susanna and Will was much more favorable. Whatever had been said, Sarah was glad to be rid of Will and she wanted to be on her own for sometime to mourn her father.

How long that would be, she couldn't say. Susanna seemed rather pleased with the idea and enjoyed Will's visits to the house. Sarah, in order to escapes her family's concerned stares, often worked in the store with Ben. In the back room she checked store records, hounded suppliers on when they would deliver, and never missed a monthly payment with their business partners.

It seemed that in the long run, overhearing Papa's conversations about business paid off even if Sarah had found it dull and tedious. The actual practice was much more exciting as Sarah got to travel all over Boston helping the family business. It was amusing as well seeing people's reactions when they say an eighteen-year-old girl, so near adulthood, knocking on their door asking for their business.

1773 passed in a menial and slow manner. Sarah was recovering more each day, but the pain was still fresh and she was still plagued by nightmares some nights. It was getting better to sleep though and she was getting back to a healthy weight again. Must to Margret's relief. Her stepmother carried on the house with so much strength and diligence. Sarah had great respect for her for that and hoped that someday perhaps she could do the same thing with her own family.

The shop was doing relatively well, but trouble happened during the summer. After doing business with both British troops and colonists, some people began to threaten Ben and Sarah's lives and burn down the family shop simply for doing business with the British. They wrote graffiti on the outside walls and the windows had been smashed in. Luckily nothing had been stolen the morning Sarah and Ben came to the shop when the windows were smashed.

If they had lost any merchandise and couldn't pay it back, they more than likely would have lost the shop. The siblings continued doing business with the British despite the threats against their lives. Whenever they walked out in public, even during broad daylight, Sarah and Ben always kept their heads down and stayed inside at night lest they should both be tarred or feathered; something Sarah feared more than losing her father's store.

As her mind began to clear, Sarah occasionally thought about Connor. What he could possibly be doing or if he was living amongst his people again. As her wounds healed, Sarah began to hope again that she would see him again, even if she could only say, "Hello."

By fall, the threats had started to wane and Sarah managed to clean off most of the graffiti on the store walls. Susanna and Will seemed deeply in love and couldn't wait to be married. It warmed Sarah's heart, seeing her sister so happy after their loss. Abigail seemed even happier for them than everyone combined. Abby had always been the type of person to revel in someone's happiness than that actual person. It was sweet almost, how Susanna and Will interacted; how they stole kisses when no one was watching, and whispering sweet nothings to one another. It was sweet, but it tended to get annoying from time to time.

By December though, things started to change. Because of the taxes imposed by Parliament, especially the tax on tea, many stores began boycotting and refused to sell any tea. Ben heavily considered doing the same and officially stopped selling tea in September. Margret was appalled by this "open rebellion" and chastised him for his behavior.

Ben had never really looked up to Margret as a motherly figure, so he just brushed off her concerns and did what he thought was best for the store, with Sarah's help of course. Sarah was at first unsure if not selling tea was a good idea; that would have put them on the British's radar and would have been considered rebels. But in the end, it seemed to have worked since the threats against them stopped.

The British Parliament kept placing more and more taxes, making the colonies more and more resentful of the Crown. It was only a matter of time before the people snapped.

* * *

Captaining a ship had been more exciting than Ratonhnhaké:ton expected. The smell of the sea and the wind in his face had been intoxicated and he couldn't wait to go out to the ocean again.

Martha's Vineyard had proved to be a rather quiet and quaint place. Many wealthy families settled here and it was obvious as to why. With an ocean-side view wherever you looked, it was hard to not say no to living hear. Faulkner had proved an excellent teacher and Ratonhnhaké:ton caught on quickly on how to steer the ship and give command. This was more exciting than when he had his first kiss.

Once they had anchored at Martha's Vineyard, Ratonhnhaké:ton and Faulkner walked to a gunnery of sorts and bought the cannons. After giving the man the information to set the guns into place, they walked to the nearest tavern by the docks. Supposedly the men Faulkner had in mind were supposed to be here, according to the locals.

"There are no two better men suited for the job!" Faulkner beamed as they walked inside the tavern. Behind the bar was a middle-aged woman whose hair had already become grey. Robert smiled fondly at her as though he were seeing an old friend. Ratonhnhaké:ton assumed just as much when he greeted her.

"Hullo Miss Mandy! You're looking every bit as ravishing as I remember," the old man said with a warm smile. The woman was not convinced. She huffed at Faulkner's complement.

"After all these years you sail all the way to the Vineyard to pay me complements?" Judging from her rather short tone, Faulkner had a feeling he'd be better off just getting straight to business rather than sweet-talking Miss Mandy.

"We're looking for David and Richard Clutterbuck." Mandy nodded her head at the table behind Faulkner and Ratonhnhaké:ton. Two men sat across from one another sipping from large cups of what Ratonhnhaké:ton assumed to be beer. Both had experience etched on their faces; they had the hard "salt" look as Faulkner put it. Whatever that really meant.

Faulkner walked over to their table and flashed them a friendly smile. "Gentlemen!"

The bald one of the two looked shocked, almost appalled in Ratonhnhaké:ton's opinion. "Robert Faulkner… The hell you been?" the bald man took a long sip of his beer; his squinty grey eyes never leaving Faulkner. Ratonhnhaké:ton also noticed that scars danced across his cheek and chin. Who knew how long those scars had been there.

"Sorry for leavin' like I did lads, but where I was going no one could know," Faulkner explained pulling out the only empty chair and sitting down. "You two working at the moment?" he asked pointing to each of them.

"Nah," the bearded one replied in a gruff voice. "Between contracts at the moment."

While they continued to speak, Ratonhnhaké:ton looked around the tavern. It seemed as if all walks of life had come here to tell stories and have a drink. It was all very interesting to hear and see. Ratonhnhaké:ton had never really seen such diversity since Boston. As he looked around though, he noticed Nicholas Biddle sitting in the corner, speaking to Benjamin Church in hushed voices.

Achilles had told Ratonhnhaké:ton that Biddle was a very active member in the Templar Order who helped with aiding supplies and merchandise. Regardless, he was still a Templar. And if that was the case, then surely he knew where he could find Charles Lee. If not, Church would know for a certainty. Ratonhnhaké:ton walked up to Biddle's table, his face contorted in anger and determination.

"Where's Charles Lee?" Ratonhnhaké:ton asked in a dark voice, trying to sound threatening as he could. Biddle's associate eyed the teenager with contempt. Like Ratonhnhaké:ton cared. He only concerned about Biddle at the moment.

Both men stood up, but Church was the one who spoke up. "I don't much care for your tone, _boy_." He spat at Ratonhnhaké:ton's feet. Just as the teen was about to lash at out him did Faulkner step in.

"Heeey… You don't want to be doin' that, Biddle," Faulkner said pushing Ratonhnhaké:ton behind him. Biddle looked at the old sailor with amusement and laughed. That only made Ratonhnhaké:ton even more angry.

"Bobby Faulkner turned wet-nurse?" he laughed. He got in close to Faulkner's face. "Good to know you realized what a _SHITE_ sailor you are!" As much as Ratonhnhaké:ton tried to hold in his anger, he was failing miserably. Just as he was about to speak did Miss Mandy intervene to stop the potential fight.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" she said placing herself between Faulkner and Biddle. "Not in here, gentlemen. Better still, not at all!" Mandy turned to Robert and shouted, "Bobby, take your friends and get out!"

Faulkner didn't give any hint to what he was thinking. Instead, he gave Biddle a disgusted look and led Ratonhnhaké:ton and the Clutterbuck brothers outside. "Let's go boys. Our guns ought to be ready, come on."

As their party walked out, Ratonhnhaké:ton noticed Mandy giving Biddle a hard, mean look that made him slightly squirm in his boots. It amused him to see how much a woman could affect a man with just a look. He smiled to himself as he, Faulkner, and the Clutterbucks walked back to the _Aquila_.

"Tell us about this ship o' yours, Bobby," one of the brothers asked. Once he did, Faulkner's eyes lit up with pride and for the rest of the walk all he could talk about was how fast, able, and formidable the _Aquila_ was. It was like a father going on about how proud his son was.

The trip home didn't seem as long as the trip to Martha's Vineyard. Faulkner suggested using some shipwrecked vessels that had been beached on the rocks as target practice as well as the swivel guns. Ratonhnhaké:ton ended up proving his worth as one of the crewmen remarked, "Not bad for a spud, cap'n!"

"You are a fast learner!" Faulkner smiled.

"Provided something interests me," Ratonhnhaké:ton replied lightly, a little humor on his voice. Faulkner laughed and mentioned how they would make him a "jack tar" yet. Ratonhnhaké:ton assumed that they would make him better at manning a ship like the _Aquila_.

As they were a few days away from New York, they had ran into some small British ships trying to sink theirs. On of the Clutterbuck brothers spotted them on the starboard side. The ships were small though and had easily been dealt with despite weather turning stormy and the waves washing over the deck.

It was during that moment when Ratonhnhaké:ton really grew his sea legs and proved himself to be an able captain. He almost felt like a man giving the order to fire and man the cannons. Faulkner seemed to be teeming with pride at Ratonhnhaké:ton. The rest of the trip passed by without any more battles. Once they docked back at the Homestead, Faulkner rushed him home for the fear that Achilles would "come out of retirement just for him" after keeping Ratonhnhaké:ton away for so long. The teen wondered the next time he would go out to sea again, but soon that wanderlust ebbed away and soon he felt guilty for not saying goodbye.

He dreaded the walk back and slowly opened the door. Sure enough, there stood Achilles in the foyer waiting for him. Sadness was in his eyes as Ratonhnhaké:ton walked. As if he didn't feel guilty enough!

"Three weeks…and not even a goodbye before you left," the old man sighed, pounding his cane lightly on the floor. He looked at Ratonhnhaké:ton, almost disappointedly. His mentor took it harder than he expected. But, he could understand why he felt that way. Achilles had given Ratonhnhaké:ton his son's namesake as a way to move easier in colonial circles, so he must have looked at him as a son. Ratonhnhaké:ton thought that if his own son had left for three weeks without saying goodbye, he would be upset too.

"Sorry," Ratonhnhaké:ton said in a soft voice looking at the ground. Achilles waved a hand and began walking towards the back of the house. Ratonhnhaké:ton just stood there awkwardly, not really sure what to do.

"Well? What are you waiting for?" Achilles asked looking over his shoulder. Ratonhnhaké:ton closed the door behind him and followed his mentor towards the kitchen area where the candelabra lever was. Achilles pulled it revealing the secret entrance to the basement. They walked down the stairs in a comfortable, if slightly weird silence, down the steps to the ground.

Ratonhnhaké:ton walked to the mannequin like he usually did, touching the assassin robes. Whenever he came down here, he often imagined what he'd look like wearing those robes.

"Put them on." Achilles said standing behind him. Ratonhnhaké:ton looked at his mentor, slightly confused. The old man gave an encouraging nod and walked back upstairs. Ratonhnhaké:ton watched him go and once he was gone, he looked at the robes one more time before putting them on.

They were a little loose on him, but once Ratonhnhaké:ton gained a little more muscle, he should be fine. He moved his arms in circles as he got used to the feeling of the heavy robes on him. The material was light and airy, perfect for fast movement and keeping cool in hot weather. Achilles walked towards him, pride shining in his eyes.

"Once upon a time we had a ceremony for such occasions," he began, "But I don't think either of us are the type for that." Ratonhnhaké:ton stood at attention, listening to his mentor speak. This was the moment he had been waiting for for almost three years.

"Welcome to the Brotherhood, Connor."

* * *

It was Christmas time again. Although the air outside was freezing, no snow had fallen yet. If Sarah thought about it, it had been one who year since her father passed away. But she didn't think about it; couldn't think about it. Sarah was making her way down to the wharves to talk to one of the shipmen her and her brother were business partners with. The man had been a few days late and his ship had just made port.

"Mister Tillney," Sarah called. The old salt had his back turned and was talking to a few more merchants. There had been a bad winter storm while on his way to Boston and Tillney was complaining about it to his business associates.

"Waves were taller than the mast! I swear it!" Tillney said, rising his arm for effect. A couple of the men laughed him off and motioned that Sarah was walking towards him.

"Ah, M-Miss Townsend!" Tillney stuttered. Normally he was the man to laugh at a woman's expense, but Sarah had a hard manner when it came to business and rarely took no for an answer. Many people claimed that after her father passed away Sarah became a cold and bitter woman. That wasn't really the case. Sarah just didn't have time for fools with a household to help provide for.

_Let them talk_, Sarah thought.

"Mister Tillney, I'm glad to see you made it to Boston safely," Sarah said politely, nodding at the men behind her business associate.

"Thank you, ma'am," Tillney replied twisting his cap in his hands. Something was amiss Sarah noticed. Otherwise the poor man wouldn't be squirming the way he was now.

"I take it you have the merchandise my brother bought from you?" Sarah asked eying him suspiciously. The poor man turned a sickly pale color.

"I do, or rather… I uhm, did…" He looked nervously at Sarah. She just gave him a blank look, not giving any hint to what she was thinking or feeling, which in some ways was worse than giving a reaction.

"What happened? Did a band of pirates steal my brother's order?" Sarah asked in a sharp voice. Poor Mister Tillney, he was deathly nervous now.

"No ma'am!" he quickly began. "I just simply lost it in the storm! Some of the cargo became loose and fell into the ocean! Honest ma'am, honest!" Sarah eyed him for a moment longer. One of Tillney's crewmen that were nearby overheard the conversation. Sarah called him over.

"Was that the way of it?" she asked, giving the boy a hard look. He nodded his head vigorously and returned to his work. Sarah looked at Tillney from the corner of her eye and sighed.

"Fine. I'll pay you half and give you the rest of your share when you have the other half of my brother's order," Sarah said handing Tillney the money. "Send this to the shop immediately, Mister Tillney."

"Yes Miss Townsend! Oy! You scabs, you heard the lady!" Tillney began shouting and barking orders to his crew to deliver the merchandise as soon as possible. His voice became distant as Sarah walked towards the shop. She rubbed her temple and groaned. Ben would not be pleased to hear this. She could already picture how angry he'd be.

As Sarah walked down the streets of Boston, she took care to avoid bumping into people. For some reason the streets were crowded more than they usually were. There was no special event going on, at least not to her knowledge, but Sarah couldn't help but wonder what the fuss was about. A cold breeze picked up and Sarah made sure the scarf around her neck was tight enough so that it wouldn't fall off should the breeze pick up into a full-blown gust.

"Why does it have to be so bloody cold?" she mumbled as she breathed into her hands despite the warm wool gloves she wore. Sarah inwardly groaned but wasn't paying attention to where she was going and she almost bumped into someone.

"Oh, my apologies!" Sarah quickly said, looking up at the stranger… or rather what she could see since he wore a hood that covered most of his face. There was something familiar about this man, but it wasn't until he looked at her saying that it was all right.

"Connor?" Sarah asked incredulously. Her green eyes were wide and she was completely dumbfounded. Ratonhnhaké:ton squinted his eyes until he realized the girl standing in front of him. Well, more like _woman_.

"Sarah?" he asked equally surprised. Sarah smiled wide and nodded. Without thinking she took his hand and began shaking it. She really had changed in the past couple years, Ratonhnhaké:ton noticed. Sarah looked so…feminine, womanly. And utterly beautiful.

"It's been such a long time! How have you been?" she asked politely, the smile never leaving her face. Ratonhnhaké:ton was still in shock over how different Sarah looked. He almost didn't recognize her. As much as he would have liked to catch-up, he had an important mission to attend to.

"I'm sorry to cut this conversation so short, Sarah. I need to know where Sam Adams is. Have you seen him anywhere?" Ratonhnhaké:ton asked. Sarah's smile faltered a little but it never fully left her face. He briefly wondered what she looked like when she wasn't smiling.

"I saw him close to the wharves earlier. I had business there and saw him on my way back," she answered. Ratonhnhaké:ton nodded his thanks and began to walk off. "Come by the shop sometime! I'd be lovely to speak with you again!" Sarah called, the evening sun illuminating her silhouette. Ratonhnhaké:ton looked at her for a moment, studying what would keep to memory. He nodded, gave her a small wave, and made his way towards the wharves.

_He's so… handsome_, Sarah thought.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: I would have had this out sooner, but then the election happened and I watched all of it Tuesday, and since I'm in college the workload can get rather crazy. Most of Thursday night consisted of me editing my essay and submitting it on time. But it's a three-day weekend, so I hope to update as soon as I can for the story! (andpossiblypusblishanotheras sassin'screedficfeaturingmalikanday alaifyourememberthestory). **

**Slight spoilers ahead after this chapter because it takes place during the Boston Tea Party and a little thereafter. Though there is some Connor and Sarah fluff…even though I'm not particularly good at writing fluff, nor do I really love to write it, but it needs to happen! After this point though, I'm going to focus more on Sarah. But don't worry! We'll still see plenty of Connor! I love your reviews and look forward to seeing more of them! Thank you.**

* * *

It had been interesting to see Sarah again. She had changed so much during the past couple years; the first thing Ratonhnhaké:ton seemed to notice was that her hair had gotten significantly longer. Back when they first met, her honey colored hair was slightly passed her shoulders, but now it was just above her waist. Sarah also grew in height and towered more so over most women. Her body had become more womanly too, mostly noticeable from her... rather large …assets. Ratonhnhaké:ton may or may have not eyed them for a quick second. But when Ratonhnhaké:ton looked into her eyes, he couldn't help but see anger and hurt hidden behind that smile.

What could have happened to make Sarah feel that way? As much as Ratonhnhaké:ton would have liked to know, he knew it wasn't his business and respected Sarah's privacy. If she ever wanted to tell him, he would listen to her. Finding his way back to the wharves, Ratonhnhaké:ton overheard Sam talking to a few associates. From their body language, it was a very heated and passionate discussion.

"Look, sanctions and demonstrations won't suffice! Sam, we need to _act_!" the slightly portly man speaking was shaking his fists and practically spitting on about the subject. Ratonhnhaké:ton found him to be slightly annoying already, just from mere observation. The man continued, "And I'm talking about more than a sternly worded letter!"

Sam gave a weak smile in return, and raised his hands in mock surrender. "I understand your frustrations gentlemen, truly I do. But surely you can understand my hesitance to kick the hornet's nest?"

The third man spoke up after being silent for most of the conversation. "The Tories will sting us no matter what we do. We might as well make it count!" The portly man nodded in agreement with their associate and Ratonhnhaké:ton noticed Sam becoming uncomfortable. He was being outnumbered 2 to 1 in a verbal fight. Perhaps now was a good time to come and save him?

"Ah! Connor! Hello again!" Sam greeted almost with relief when he saw the assassin approaching him. He held out his hand and welcomed him into the circle of conversation. "What brings you to Boston?"

"You," he said simply with a small, amused smile when he saw the confusion on Sam's face. Sam Adams briefly turned back to his associates and gave them a polite smile.

"Will you excuse us, gentlemen?" the portly man and his companion hesitantly nodded and Sam sighed with relief once the two were out of earshot. Even while they walked away, Ratonhnhaké:ton could feel their curious stares on the back of his head.

"Thank you," Sam began. "That conversation was starting to turn unpleasant. Now, what can I do for you?" Ever a man straight to the point. Ratonhnhaké:ton admired that about the hot-headed man walking beside him.

"I was hoping you could help me locate William Johnson." The man had come to Ratonhnhaké:ton's village several days ago, claiming to buy the land from the Mohawk tribe without their consent. As far as Ratonhnhaké:ton was concerned, that was highway robbery and Johnson needed to be stopped. His people needed him and he made a promise to them; one he would uphold no matter the cost. Sam quirked a brow in curiosity, but quickly disregarded it. Johnson was never a fair businessman. Perhaps getting rid of him would do Sam some good.

"Of course! I'm headed to a meeting with some men who should be able to help. Why don't you come along?" Sam offered. To be honest, Ratonhnhaké:ton had had a long journey and since it was almost nightfall, all he wanted to do was sleep on a bed, regardless of the location. Not to mention learning that he people's land would be taken had made Ratonhnhaké:ton both emotionally and mentally exhausted. Something like a business meeting would probably not mow over well.

"No, thank you. Though I am in need of a place to stay for the next few days. Do you know of a place?" Ratonhnhaké:ton asked. He should have enough money to stay at a decent tavern for three days or so, judging from the weight of his coin purse. Sam nodded understandingly and suggested a place called "The Green Dragon Tavern." The rooms were spacious enough and fairly priced, even if the food was less than satisfactory. Ratonhnhaké:ton nodded his thanks and set off for the tavern.

While walking the streets of Boston, there was a noticeable change of atmosphere amongst the people. Some had gathered in groups and publicly protested. Seeing that image brought back memoires of Ratonhnhaké:ton's first trip to Boston (something he'd rather not think about for the moment), while some just mocked the guards in plain sight. Some of the troops took it all in silence while others were not so lucky. As much as Ratonhnhaké:ton wanted to help, there was only so much he could do and couldn't be in ten places at once. He would need help freeing those captured by British troops.

As he continued walking, Ratonhnhaké:ton noticed a small, rather humble shop on the corner. It was the name that caught his attention: _Townsend Goods & Services_. Ratonhnhaké:ton must have missed the sign when he first walked to this store when he came with Sam those years ago. Besides, he did want to talk to Sarah earlier, but duty called. Ratonhnhaké:ton walked over to the door and slowly opened it. He poked his head in, softly saying a hello since at first glance the shop appeared to be empty.

From the backroom emerged a young man who looked to be in his early 20s. Ratonhnhaké:ton automatically assumed this young man to be Sarah's brother as they both had the same hair color and nose. Wait… Yes! This man was Sarah's brother!

Ratonhnhaké:ton remembered the young man helping him gather supplies for the Homestead when Ratonhnhaké:ton came to Boston for a second time. What was his name again? Paul, or John? Either way, he looked slightly annoyed about something, but still managed to put his best foot forward.

"Can I help you?" he asked in a (fake) cheery voice.

"Ah…" Ratonhnhaké:ton began a little confused. "I'm looking for Sarah Townsend?"

* * *

Just as Sarah predicted, Ben was none to pleased about losing half his investment. Sarah tried to reassure her brother that Tillney would only get the other half when he brought them the merchandise they needed and that she paid him half to help any costs that Tillney needed to cover.

"Fine! But the man will have to pay us double for this! I can't afford to loose such money again, Sarah! Tillney may be the best shipper in the colonies, but the man has no sense in his brains!" Ben sighed and looked over the transactions and records of the past few days, adding and subtracting costs.

"I know, and Tillney is an honest man even if incompetent sometimes," Sarah agreed quietly as she arranged various boxes according to their contents. All the heavy lifting Sarah did made her grow some muscle in her arms and back, and it made her breasts rather firm and perky, which was never a bad thing. Margret and Susanna thought it rather odd, but with Ben and Sarah running the shop, the income was steady and enough to keep food in their mouths. Needless to say, they kept all comments to themselves.

Ben had just finished calculating the proceeds of the last day when the bell rang, signaling that they had a customer. Both Sarah and Ben looked at each other confused. Why would a customer be here when it was so close to closing time? Ben handed Sarah the paperwork.

"Finish these up," he told her. "I'll go tend to our last minuet guest." He looked slightly annoyed, but after the little financial flop they had suffered, it was understandable in Sarah's mind.

"Can I help you?" Sarah heard Ben ask in a fake welcoming voice. Sarah had to bit her lip to not snort out-loud from laughter. That poor customer, she couldn't help but think as she quickly calculated the rest of the week's earnings.

"Ah… I'm looking for Sarah Townsend?" the confused voice said. Sarah raised her hair and felt her hearing heighten. That voice sounded familiar… but what did this person want with her? Sarah felt her stomach tighten in nervousness as she quietly stepped towards the entrance to the shop.

"What business does my sister have with you, precisely?" Sarah heard Ben snap. Oh no, now he was being rude! Albeit, being a protective brother, but still rude! Picking up her skirts, Sarah walked out to the shop to see what the fuss was about.

"Now Ben, don't be a unlicked cub!" Sarah remarked. Normally Ben would have taken that insult personally, but after running the family business for so long with Sarah, he was used to her jabs here and there. When Sarah had fully walked out, her heart caught in her throat. He had actually come to see her! Sarah was honestly surprised that Connor came to see her.

"Connor! What a pleasant surprise!" Sarah smiled and approached him, taking his hand and shaking it. "I'd like you to meet my brother Benjamin Townsend." Sarah said, her smile never faltering. Connor took her brother's hand and shook it firmly.

"We've met before," Connor said in a cool voice. Sarah looked momentarily perplexed and then snapped her fingers, as if a brilliant idea came to her head.

"Ah, yes! I remember now! That day you came in for supplies!" Sarah smiled but soon shifted in her shoes when she saw the look Ben was giving Connor. Perhaps it was because he was native that Ben took an automatic dislike to the man, but he continued to look at Connor like he was some kind of bug. Ben did a poor job trying to hide what he was feeling, but Connor seemed unfazed by it. It saddened Sarah that Connor was used to such rude behavior. To relieve the tension, a quick idea came into Sarah's mind.

"Ben? Might I have a quick word with you in the back?" her brother looked confused (as did Connor) when Sarah was leading Ben back by the hand towards the backroom. Sarah partially closed the door and stood firm.

"Why don't you head back home?" Sarah suggested in a low, quiet voice. Ben looked appalled by the idea, wanting to protect his sister.

"What? No! I'm not going to leave you with this… this savage!" Ben retorted in a harsh, low tone. Sarah rolled her eyes and pinched Ben hard on his side. Her brother hissed and slapped her hand away.

"I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself, Benjamin!" Sarah snapped in a harsh whisper. "You've let me close up the shop several times once you have left so I could finish calculating our earnings. You even said so yourself that I'm better at calculations than you!"

Both siblings gave each other hard looks for what seemed like an eternity. Finally, Ben huffed and raised his arms in surrender. Sarah may have been the more patient one, but she was hands down the most stubborn woman in all of Boston.

"If you're not home an hour after sundown, I'll find that savage and kill him myself," Ben gruffed throwing on his jacket, hat, and scarf. Sarah crossed her arms defiantly.

"He has a name you know," she argued. Ben just gave her what Sarah called his "brotherly look", when he looked at Sarah, Susanna, or Abigail with a mixture of worrying, protectiveness, and concern. She gave her brother a reassuring smile before he disappeared on to the street. Snow flurries were beginning to fall, but they wouldn't stick to the ground. It may have been cold, but not cold enough for snow to stick.

Sarah regained her clam composure and walked back into the main area of the shop. Connor was observing the muskets on display above the fireplace. His hood was down and Sarah was able to get a better look at him. His hair looked lighter the last time Sarah saw Connor; it looked more brown than black and while he had some of it tied back, a single braid fell down the left side of his face tied at the end by beads.

Connor's skin was also lighter than most natives. And his jaw was slightly narrower, his cheeks more defined and higher. Was he mixed? Sarah felt her curiosity for this man grow even more as she looked at him.

_He really is an attractive man_, Sarah thought to herself. Connor heard Sarah walk back in and greeted her with a polite nod and small smile. For some reason, it made Sarah feel warm inside.

_I wonder if he's as muscular as he looks_.

"I apologize for my brother's behavior," Sarah apologized with a polite smile. Her green eyes looked distant for a moment, remembering something. "Much has changed in the past few years, so you'll have to excuse me if I'm not quite myself."

Connor raised a brow. "What do you mean?"

"Ah, well," Sarah began, almost thinking aloud. How could she explain in proper conversation what happened exactly within the past 13 months alone? Even thinking about it was daunting, and it still hurt sometimes to think about it. Though it had been a year, Sarah was not entirely ready to talk about it. "Ben has become the sole provider of our family."

Even to her own hears that sounded shaky and… concerning. Connor furrowed his brow and looked at Sarah. He wondered what really happened. Obviously Sarah was hiding the real story. She continued to have this distant look in her eyes.

"Sarah?" Connor asked. She briefly looked up at him through her lashes and looked back down. "What happened?" Connor could say that he was genuinely concerned about the girl who showed him such kindness. In whatever way he could, he wanted to help.

"My father died," she said bluntly, "just a few days before Christmas last year. It was tuberculosis that killed him." Towards the end her voice cracked and she bit her lip.

_Enough with the crying!_ she thought to herself. _I've cried enough_.

"You have my deepest condolences," Connor replied. How could she still hold herself together like this, working in a hand-me-down shop? Sarah must be stronger than she realizes, Connor thought.

"Thank you," Sarah said after clearing her throat. "I'm sure you're probably wondering about my mother, yes?" Although Connor didn't want to push the subject further, he did wonder how they're mother was handling the situation. Surely Mrs. Townsend didn't approve of Sarah working in the shop? Connor simply nodded.

_It's odd… It's so easy to talk to him_.

"Well, if you're referring to my stepmother, she doesn't necessarily approve of me helping my brother run the shop. Even when my father had it, he needed Ben's help to run it, so, after my father died, I decided to help my brother- as family does."

"That's very honorable of you, Sarah," Connor replied. For someone so young to take on such a task was impressive beyond belief. It made him respect Sarah more. She showed her thanks by smiling at him and arranging the items here and there to fill in the silence. But when she said, "referring to my stepmother", Connor automatically assumed that their real mother had died.

How old was Sarah when her mother was taken from her? Does she remember her? Does Sarah even think about her mother? Almost immediately Connor empathized with Sarah and what she might be feeling about her mother. He would never forget his and the sacrifice she made for him…

"I think it's harder for Ben though," Sarah thought aloud breaking Connor's train of thought. "Technically he's the sole provider for us and it must be terrifying have to provide for not only himself and me, but for our two sisters and stepmother."

"You're family seems rather large," Connor observed with light humor in his voice. Sarah laughed lightly, nodding her head. If only he knew the half of it!

"At times it is, but my family is dedicated to one another." Sarah smiled distantly. "I believe it shall continue to stay that way."

They continued talking here and there, enjoying the growing comfortable silence between them. It was so easy to talk to her, Connor thought at some point. But as Connor continued listening to Sarah, hearing the stories she had to tell; of watching her father die in her arms, losing her mother at a younger age than Connor, and having to be more like a mother than sister to her siblings, Connor realized just how strong Sarah really was. She willingly took on the burdens of her family in order to not only provide for them, but to be a comfort to them during desperate times.

_Someday that may kill her_, Connor thought. A person could only take on so much responsibility before cracking. He did understand Sarah's want and need to provide for her family, as Connor felt the same with his people. That seemed to be big another thing they had in common. What else could they possibly have in common? As their conversation dwindled down, Sarah looked out the window and sighed.

"I should head back, before Ben comes after you," Sarah joked trying to fasten the cloak around her neck. This button was so troublesome! She could feel herself getting slightly frustrated and huffed, biting her lower lip. Connor stepped in and helped her. He too had his fair share of troublesome clothing.

Was Sarah the only one who felt a spark when they're fingers brushed? Did he notice the look she was giving him from under her hood? Probably, but Sarah hoped for the opposite. She whispered a soft "thank you" and wrapped the scarf around her neck and pulled her gloves on.

"I'll escort you home," Connor offered. Sarah looked at him with a mixture of gratitude and sadness.

"I'm afraid my reputation will be even more ruined now," she laughed. Surely he could understand her concern? Connor seemed to understand, but appeared unfazed as he pulled up his hood.

"You never cared in the first place, so why start now?" Connor wore a small smile while Sarah titled her head to the side and laughed. Her green eyes seemed to sparkle at that moment.

_How beautiful they look in the candlelight_, Connor thought.

Sarah led the way and talked most of the trip. Connor spoke here and there, but mostly remained silent. He really only spoke when Sarah asked him something.

"What tribe do you hail from again?" she asked.

"_Kanien'kehá:ka_," Connor replied. Sarah tried to repeat the word, but fumbled over the pronunciation, laughing. It wasn't bad for her first try though. "_Kanien'kehá:ka_." Connor repeated, slightly amused.

"_Kanien'kehá:ka_?" he nodded approvingly and Sarah smiled triumphantly. "So, what does that mean?"

"It means 'People of the Flint,'" Connor said. "But you know my tribe as the name 'Mohawk.'"

"Ah! I see!" Sarah's eyes lit up in curiosity. She soon fired questions like, "Can you say something in your native language?" "How would you pronounce my name?" "What's your native name?" Connor answered them all with ease, but was unsure how to translate the name 'Sarah' into his native language. Still, as they walked, she absorbed every detail, utterly fascinated by him. It was rather…cute.

"The name my mother gave me is 'Ratonhnhaké:ton.'"

"Ray-done-hay…?" Sarah laughed at her awkward attempt to say his name. Connor gave her an amused smile and repeated it, more slowly so Sarah could hear it better. "Ratonhnhaké:ton…" he nodded, but just to make sure she knew how to properly pronounce it, Sarah repeated his name a couple more times.

"Which one do you prefer: Connor or Ratonhnhaké:ton?"

"Which ever is easiest for you," he replied.

"I would like to call you by the name your mother gave you, but it is quite a lot to say. Perhaps I'll stick with Connor." She smiled warmly at him and stopped in front of a two-story house. It was small and rather quaint, yet seemed like the perfect house to raise a family.

"Well, this is home," Sarah's smile softened as she looked at Connor. She made a move to embrace him, but instead, she shook his hand politely. "Thank you for escorting me home, Connor. I looked forward to crossing paths with you again."

"As do I, Sarah Townsend."

* * *

**A/N: For reference, when Sarah called Ben an 'unlicked cub', she was basically calling him un-refined, boorish, rude, words to that effect.**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: College is…kinda fun. I would have this up sooner, but you know, higher academia beckons for me. In any case, I loved your reviews so much! Though I would love to see some constructive criticism or critiques on the story, its development, etc. I do not mind at all. If my story is a heaping pile of shit, then please tell me what I can do to improve it! As long as you don't personally offend me…**

**Thank you!**

* * *

"What did the savage want?" Ben whispered at her at dinner. Margret, Susanna, and Abigail were having their own conversation and Sarah was thankful for that. She wasn't sure she'd be able to handle discussing Connor with ALL her family. Ben was annoying her enough as it is.

"He's a friend, Benjamin. Surely even you can see that," Sarah whispered back cutting her pork. "Connor just wanted to say hello." Sarah kept her eyes on her food. For some reason, not looking at Ben made her feel a little calmer. Luckily for Sarah she had gotten home in time to avoid an interrogation from the rest of her family. Ben was wise to keep certain things to himself, like Connor's visit for example.

Ben frowned and gnawed at his food. Margret took notice and told him not to eat like a savage. Sarah almost chocked on her wine from laughing. Oh, that was too amusing a coincidence!

"Are you alright, dear?" Margret asked while Sarah calmed down her coughing, covering her mouth with a handkerchief.

"I'll be fine," Sarah said and took a small sip of wine to help her throat. Her coughing almost stopped immediately. Sarah had to bite her tongue to not smile or giggle during the rest of dinner. Ben didn't say anything else, but he kept giving Sarah odd looks. Thank god Susanna, Margret, and Abby were not the observable type.

"Should we invite Will and his family for Christmas dinner?" Susanna asked, looking hopefully at Margret. The older woman looked on thoughtfully, taking long sips of wine. Ever since Edward had died, Sarah noticed that her stepmother had taken a liking to drinking when Margret thought no one was looking. Not that Sarah could blame her; her stepmother had been widowed twice now.

"I see no reason why not," Margret smiled. Her cheeks were rosy either from the heat of the fire or the wine. Whatever the case, she looked at Susanna happily before hiccupping. "Oh, pardon me!"

The rest of the evening passed on uneventfully and Sarah helped clear the table and clean the dishes. Unfortunately, Sarah had forgotten the paperwork back in the shop. She'll deal with them in the morning. Right now, all Sarah wanted to do was avoid Ben's brotherly stares and crawl under the blankets. She couldn't remember the last time that she felt this genuinely tired. Sarah almost felt calm. She briefly wondered if this was due to Connor, but she quickly shoved that thought aside thinking it to be ridiculous after only meeting him twice.

"Poppycock," she said to herself as she blew out the candle the bedside table.

* * *

The Clan Mother had told him to be cautious with Sarah, but to also possibly put his trust in her. To maybe someday let go of the resentment he felt towards the colonists. Ratonhnhaké:ton turned over in his bed, his mind going a mile a minute with thoughts of where William Johnson was, how he was going to save his people, and Sarah.

True she came off friendly and trusting enough, and she didn't seemed bothered by his Native side. Ratonhnhaké:ton, for a sliver of a moment, wanted to trust her. But then he reminded himself that he only met her twice and that it seemed too soon to fully trust Sarah yet. She did have potential though, Ratonhnhaké:ton would admit.

Maybe someday, Ratonhnhaké:ton could see himself becoming very good friends with Sarah. She could prove to be a valuable ally through her shop as she could trade with those who have settled on the Homestead. Sarah was a savvy business woman, perhaps she would take up Ratonhnhaké:ton's offer?

Regardless, he would think on this later. It was late into the night and Ratonhnhaké:ton needed to awake early to find Sam Adams and speak with him. But before he would leave Boston, Ratonhnhaké:ton would speak to Sarah about a possible business deal. He couldn't imagine her saying no to that. It would help her family financially, something Sarah was fighting tooth and nail for with her brother.

* * *

Ben had left earlier for the shop than usual. It was odd, Sarah thought. Normally they left the house together to open the shop, but according to Margret, Ben had hastily eaten his breakfast before leaving, or even before the sun came up.

_No doubt he's angry over something that happened yesterday. Lord only knows what_, Sarah thought as she walked through the streets of Boston. It was slightly cloudy outside; making everything seems grey and colorless in the early morning light. The cold didn't help either. Everytime Sarah exhaled, she could see her breath cloud up in front of her.

"God I hope it doesn't snow," Sarah huffed to herself. She walked up to the back door of the shop and took out her spare key. The door had already been unlocked, so Sarah walked in not caring whether Ben could hear her or not. There was no one behind the counter when Sarah walked into the main shop area.

"Ben?" Sarah called, thinking he might be nearby or possibly playing a trick on her. Ben occasionally did that from time to time. There was a note on the far side of the counter. At first glance, Sarah could tell it was hastily written. Quirking a brow, Sarah read the note.

_Sarah,_

_Went down to the wharves to sort out our business with Tillney. Won't be gone long. I need you to help me pick up an order later today if possible. It shouldn't take long._

_Ben._

Sarah folded the crumpled piece of parchment and stuffed it in one of the drawers behind the counter. Well, at least the day's mystery was solved. Perhaps Ben had left the house early was because he wanted to speak to Tillney as soon as possible? That made sense in Sarah's mind. No doubt her brother wanted to get his money's worth.

It was a slow day for business, which really wasn't that surprising. At times Sarah considered herself lucky that the shop was still open. Businesses were closing left and right in Boston, mostly because they had "upsetted the Crown." It was a sad sight to see really, watching their neighbor's business close and having to practically scrape by. Sarah had wanted to do something to help, but both Ben and Margret were vehemently against her doing so.

"They're branded and watched constantly by the soldiers. The last thing we need is to meddle in their affairs," Margret chided while working on her needlepoint and taking a long sip of wine. Sarah eyed her stepmother oddly. Did Margret have no sympathy left after their father died? Death does strange things to people, even more so to older women it seemed.

Sarah spent most of her day finishing the paperwork she had neglected to take home to work on yesterday. On a normal day, Sarah would have had this done in no time, but her mind kept wondering off in all different directions, but mostly she wanted to see Connor again. How everyone reacted around him made him seem…forbidden, and for some reason, it made Sarah want to know him more. Was it the fact that he was native, or at least half? Was it the odd assortment of weapons strapped to his person?

Speaking of which, why did he need so many weapons? Was he fighting some gargantuan enemy or something? Sarah wondered if she were to ask him that if he would answer her. No doubt it would be a strange explanation.

Ben came back to the store just as Sarah finished the paperwork and helped an old woman decide on a color of silk for a dress that the old woman was making for her granddaughter.

"I'm sure it will be a lovely dress," Sarah said with a smile as she walked the old woman to the door.

"You are very sweet to say that," replied the old lady. "Have a merry Christmas!"

"The same to you!" Sarah closed the door and turned to her brother. "How did business with Tillney go?"

"Well enough," Ben answered stepping behind the counter. "Tillney paid us double and a little over." Ben paused and looked over the finished paperwork. "You saved us more money, sis! Perhaps we can get Margret those gold earrings she's been going on about." He smiled at her while Sarah went to go and reshelf the spices. "Also, our new shipment should be here by seven. I told Margret before I left home, that way she doesn't worry."

Sarah nodded as she returned to the back room and took inventory of the rest of Tillney's shipment. Everything was here and perfectly in order. As they worked throughout the day, that small tension Ben seemed to have been feeling had ebbed away; he even whistled a tune while he helped Sarah clean the shop. Perhaps earning double from Tillney helped lighten his mood? Yeah, that sounded like Ben.

They had decided to close early since no one seemed to be coming in and the sooner they had their order, the sooner they could go home. Sarah was actually taking the time to sit down and work in her needlepoint. Abigail loved small, decorative pillows and Sarah was in the process of making one for her.

At the wharves, Ben gave the orders to the ship's captain on where to drop-off the merchandise and paid the man for his services. As they were unloading the cargo, Sarah couldn't help but notice how much Ben seemed to have ordered.

"Ben?" Sarah asked. He turned to his sister. "Perhaps next time we should make a smaller order? Business has been slow and I don't know if we can pay all this off." Ben nodded thoughtfully. His sister seemed to have a valid point there. Maybe he could sell it to the other shops for a cheaper price? That way at least they could get some money back.

"Next time I'll be sure to do that. Come on sis, it's almost dark and I don't like how many British soldiers there are," he wrapped a protective arm around Sarah's shoulders as he lead the way back home. The crowds were thinning rather quickly, probably from the curfew being enforced on the city.

Margret was at the door waiting for them. She seemed anxious, but mostly relieved when the two siblings arrived home. "Ben, Sarah! Thank goodness you're home early!" Sarah gave her stepmother a confused look at first, but when her eyes landed on the sitting room, she understood why Margret was acting the way she was.

"You bastard," one of the men shouted as he slammed a shilling down on the palm of his friend's hand. "You'll put me in debt before the night is out!"

"I'm good, but not that good, Rob," the man with the shilling laughed. Margret led the two into the kitchen where they could discuss this issue more openly. Susanna was busy cutting vegetables and adding them to the large cooking pot over the fire. Abigail was in the dining room, setting up the table.

"Why are there British soldiers in our home?" Ben practically snapped once they made it into the kitchen. "We've never had to deal with this before!"

"Oy, is it ready yet?" a voice called from the other side of the house.

"Just a few more minutes sir!" Margret called. She looked to Ben with annoyance, though not directed at him. "Now that more and more soldiers are arriving here in Boston, we can no longer be spared having to house them. How intolerable…" Margret wiped her sweaty face with her apron and took a sip of wine from a cup placed on the counter.

"Go make yourselves useful!" Margret said. "Susanna, Abby, and I can handle the cooking for tonight." Their stepmother preoccupied herself by helping Susanna chop and add ingredients to large kettle pot. Sarah and Susanna both gave each other that knowing look from across the kitchen: _we'll talk later_.

Ben shrugged his shoulders and asked one of the men if he could join their game.

"You know anything about Reversis, boy?" one of the men asked.

"I'm a fast learner," Ben replied picking up the hand he was dealt. Sarah, much to her dismay, walked in the sitting room offering to wash their coats and boots. There were four of them, and three out of the four were rather old looking. Sarah guessed somewhere in their late thirties early forties. But she did notice one who looked to be slightly older than her. He seemed very young compared to the others. The young soldier looked at Sarah while she collected the men's coats and boots.

"Do you need help, miss?" he asked. His voice was a little high pitched, and he even sounded young. He seemed a little naïve too. Sarah wondered if this young man could really handle this completely different environment.

"No, please, make yourselves at home." Sarah replied with a smile as she left for the washroom.

_This is going to be a strange night_, Sarah thought.

* * *

Indeed it had been. The older men mostly kept to themselves and thanked their host for their hospitality.

"As if we had a choice, " Sarah complained under her breath. Ben elbowed her in the side while Susanna pinched her arm. She poker her twin hard in her side while Ben tried not to laugh. Most of the household had retired shortly after dinner, the soldiers included. The sitting room was still large enough to where Sarah could work on her needlepoint by the fire while the soldiers slept. The older ones had a tendency to snore, which made it difficult for Sarah not to laugh out loud. Focusing on the simple motion of sewing helped Sarah hide her laughter, but the youngest one seemed to have trouble sleeping.

"I don't know how I manage to sleep some nights with all this cacophony of snores," he joked in a low voice, sitting on the sofa across from Sarah. She smiled without taking her eyes of her needlework. "What is that you are working on?"

"I'm making a pillow for my sister," Sarah replied. Abigail loved flowers, so Sarah was creating a pattern of different kinds of flowers weaving in and around each other. The stitches weren't a strong as Susanna's, or probably as neat, but Sarah was satisfied with her work. At least you could tell the difference between the roses and tulips.

"May I?" he asked holding out his hand. Sarah looked at him curiously before handing him her work. "This is a very lovely pattern Miss…?"

"Sarah Townsend," she held out her hand. Though instead of him shaking her hand, he kissed it instead.

"Elijah Bingham," he smiled. Sarah felt a small blush on her cheeks. Not very many boys did that here, and his lips were soft against her fingers. She briefly wondered if that was common practice back in England. He was rather attractive too. He had dark auburn hair and blue eyes that sparked with ambition. He seemed rather tall, too. Sarah gave Elijah a brief smile and returned back to her needlework. To be polite, she kept the conversation going.

"So, Mister Bingham, are you at a certain rank within the army?"

_Just keep your eyes focused on this_, Sarah thought. Why did that kiss bother her so much?_ I wonder if Connor's lips are that soft? _They did look full for a man…

"I'm a lieutenant," Elijah replied with a proud smile. He seemed proud of that despite it being a low rank. "The one in charge of us if that one," he pointed to a man with a large belly, sprawled over on the blankets provided for him. "That's Major Archibald Lawton, he's a rather fair man." Sarah nodded, feigning interest in what this lieutenant had to say.

"How old are you, Miss Townsend? If you don't mind my asking," Elijah said looking over Sarah. She felt herself getting uncomfortable, the effect of this kiss wearing off.

"I will be nineteen come this January," Sarah replied in a calm voice. She looked up at the clock. It was almost ten. "It is getting late, I had best go to bed." Sarah stood up and gave Elijah a small curtsy. "Goodnight Lieutenant Bingham."

He nodded, "Goodnight Miss Townsend." Elijah smiled to himself. Such a pretty face couldn't hide for long.

Susanna was fast asleep when Sarah walked into their room. Not that she could blame her sister. Susanna had helped Sarah clean the coats and shine the soldiers' boots, and she helped with dinner. Sarah gave her sibling an appreciative smile and quietly crawled into bed.

* * *

"I still can't believe we had to quarter British soldiers without pay! Such a concept baffles me!" Ben huffed as he counted the money from his most recent transaction. Surprisingly some of the extra merchandise Ben had purchased sold well with the other stores. Sarah and her brother had been all over Boston most of the day bartering and collecting. It had been exhausting, but after that odd conversation with Elijah, busy work was something Sarah adored right now.

Even as they walked out the door, thanking again for their hospitality, Elijah looked at Sarah as though he knew was she looked like without her chemise. It made her uncomfortable and she branded the young, and albeit handsome, lieutenant as a leech.

"Well, we'd had best get used to it. No doubt it'll happen again." Sarah huffed sitting in the back room with Ben. How her feet and back were killing her! The odd looks had finally stopped. At least now people were getting used to seeing Sarah's face in the business world.

"You have a point there sis," Ben sighed putting the money away. He pinched the bridge of his nose a sighed. It had been a long day for both of them. But they had made a nice bit of profit from the day's work.

"Whiskey?" Sarah asked knowingly, a smirk on her face. Ben held up a finger pointing to where it was.

"Whiskey," he replied grabbing two glasses. Sarah poured them a glass and sat next to her brother, her partner in crime. "Cheers!"

"To what?" Sarah asked. The smell of alcohol was already starting to clear up her stuffy nose and she hadn't taken a sip yet. I'm sure if Margret were here, she'd be fussing over Sarah having such a strong drink.

Ben pursed his lips thoughtfully. "Cheers to the Brits leaving America!" they both laughed as they clinked glasses.

"Like that'll happen," Sarah added in a sarcastic tone. She took a small sip while Ben doused his whole glass. Both scrunched up their faces and coughed. "What year is this?"

"1769, I think?" Ben asked looking over the bottle.

"Explains the stronger taste," Sarah coughed once more before taking another sip.

"Take it easy now! You still have a whole day to work!" Ben said taking her glass. Sarah rolled her eyes taking the glass back and the bottle away from her Ben.

"I could say the same to you!" they both laughed as they walked back into the main shop area. Once their laughter had calmed down, Sarah noticed a gathering crowd outside their shop. It was hard to make out what the crowd was shouting as it kept growing and yelling things en mass.

"What the devil?" Ben asked. Sarah already poked her out the door to get a better look. "Sarah, don't!" Too late! She was already out the door with a scarf and cloak in her hand from the nearby rack.

"We are not the King's men, we are FREE! But the king sends these REDCOATS to push us around!" a voice shouted over the crowd. Sarah stood on the tips of her toes, trying to see who was speaking. Judging from his accent, he was French and the whole crowd shouted in agreement.

Sarah found a nearby bench and stood up on the ledge, craning her neck over the crowd. At the head of the mob was a chef, carrying a large butcher's knife. He was ranting and raving like a madman, but next to him was a hooded figure and Sarah immediately realized that it was Connor.

The chef spoke up again, "This is OUR city! Let us show them who owns it! It's time to FIGHT!" Another chorus of agreement rose up from the crowd as they followed the chef. Even over the din of the crowd, Sarah could hear Connor trying to reason with the de facto mob leader.

"Stephane, please! Stop and listen to me!" he placed a hand on Stephane's shoulder, but he shook it off. He looked ready to kill. Sarah tried to weave her way through the crowd, to see what was going on.

"Half of these people really need to take a bath," she groaned under her breath.

"I've listened for long enough!" the Frenchman barked at Connor. "They come into MY home and take MY things?! No more! I will get revenge, and the man responsible will pay! His friends will pay!"

"Connor!" Sarah had finally pushed her way through the crowd and to the front. He turned around and gaped with wide eyes as Sarah ran up to him.

"Sarah? What are you doing here?" Connor asked.

"I could ask you the same! What on earth is going on?" Sarah fell into stride with Connor who looked between her, Stephane, and the crowd.

"This…is a bad time." He said a little uneasy. Sarah rolled her eyes.

Why is there a mob marching through Boston?" she practically yelled over the crowd. Connor looked ahead at Stephane who was starting to antagonize a small troop of Redcoats.

"Long story, tell you later!" Connor yelled before going to help Stephane. The crowd started running before Sarah could see anything. She fell to the ground with a thud while everyone ran around her. Sarah's vision was a little blurry, but once she cleared her head, the crowd was already moving down the street, yelling and protesting.

But a peculiar smell caught Sarah's attention. She looked to the corner where she remembered seeing Recoats standing, but instead, she saw four dead bodies lying there. The site was gruesome and Sarah almost vomited from the sight. Heads were gashed open, deep cuts were made and Sarah could have sworn she saw entrails poking out from the stomach of one of the soldiers.

Trying to keep herself calm, Sarah stood up on shaky legs as she attempted to keep her balance. At first Sarah decided to go back to the shop, but after the bit of madness she endured, from the mob to her family, Sarah figured a little time to herself would do her some good.

The Long Wharf was Sarah's favorite place in Boston. Watching the ships coming and going and hearing different languages fascinated Sarah. In her younger, more vulnerable years she remembered coming to the Long Wharf with her father, Ben, Susanna, and Abby as he talked about the different ships; where they had come from, where they would go, and what cargo they had brought with them.

That felt like a lifetime ago to Sarah, but it brought back found memories of childhood. A smile crept on her face as the sea air filled her senses. Now that she thought about, Sarah had never been on a ship. She would need to make it point to go on one someday soon. A few of the sailors and merchants who knew her by name greeted her. Sarah nodded at them in acknowledgement and retuned the greetings and smiles.

_I am not as cold as they think me to be_, Sarah thought to herself. A loud crack of thunder broke Sarah's chain of thought as a light drizzle started to fall. Sarah pulled the hood on the cloak up and over her head as she began to walk back to the shop. No doubt Ben was worried about her.

As she passed the small market, some troops were carrying off a body of a man who head had been cracked open. Sarah grimaced and looked away, focusing on other things.

"Too much to bear?" someone asked beside her. Sarah jumped and almost slapped the person next to her. Sarah looked up and saw that it was Connor, gently holding her wrist. He looked slightly amused at her reaction.

"You should have made your presence known," Sarah lightly laughed lowering her raised arm.

"I apologize for that," Connor said eventually letting go of Sarah's wrist. "And I also apologize for what happened earlier. Are you alright?"

"I'll be fine," Sarah said with a small reassuring smile. Her head hurt a little from the fall still. She probably had a bump where her head hit the ground. "I had a small fall, but I believe I will be fine. Thank you for your concern, Connor." He nodded but then his eyes focused to the side of her head. Sure enough, a bump had formed on the temple of her head.

"That looks like it hurts," he gently touched it with his fingertips, but even then he could feel it throbbing. Sarah winced and Connor reeled his hand back. "Sorry." She waved a hand, dismissing his concern.

"I've had worse," she replied. "Just nothing you can see physically." They looked at each other for a moment, enjoying the silence and small smiles. She really was a character of great strength, Connor thought to himself.

Did he always have freckles? Sarah asked herself. She felt herself blush again and she coughed, ending the silence. "So, what happened earlier with that mob?"

"A friend of mine had his possessions taken from him," Connor began. "Something similar happened to him when he lived in Canada. Naturally he grew tired of it, and rose up." Sarah frowned.

"Poor man," she sighed. "Will he get his things back?"

Connor shook his head, "No, oddly, he chose something more befitting for him." Sarah smiled at Connor.

"At least it worked out in the end, I suppose. All's well that ends well." The rain was starting to fall hard now and her cloak was starting to soak. All the puddles would turn to ice by the end of the day. Sarah shivered and rubbed her arms. "I had best head back home, before my family starts to worry." Connor nodded and Sarah began walking away.

_That's right!_ Connor suddenly remembered. He ran up to her. "Sarah!"

"Yes?" she turned around to face him. Despite the rain and her hair clinging to her face, she was still rather pretty, they way her green eyes shined with the setting sun.

"I meant to ask you earlier if I could use your services," Connor said. At first Sarah looked both appalled and confused, and her face turned beet red. Connor beat himself over for his poorly chosen words. Even he found himself blushing from embarrassment. "No, no, no! Not in that regard! What I meant to say was, I live in a small community and it would benefit us if we could trade. Some of the items sold in your store could be useful for my community."

Sarah's face immediately went back to its regular color. "Ah, I see! Well, I personally see no fault with that, but the business is under my brother's name. You'll have to speak with him when you get a chance."

"Understandable," Connor nodded. "I apologize for…ahem…well, you know." Sarah nodded and couldn't help but laugh. "Right, well, there is somewhere I need to be."

"Oh, best not be late then!" Sarah joked. Connor gave her a small smile and nodded before disappearing into the crowd. "This has probably been the oddest day of my life."


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: IT'S THE BOSTON TEA PARTY! PAAAAAAAARRRRRRTTTTTYYYYYY~!**

**Thank you to all of those who reviewed and critiqued my story. I love you all!**

* * *

Sarah collapsed on the bed; not caring about how damp her dress was from the rain or how she smelt like salt and fish. The exertions from the day wore Sarah out and all the girl wanted was a hot bath and meal and to sleep the rest of the day away. Not even a minute passed before Susanna walked in a shooed Sarah off the bed before a damp dress ruined the mattress and bed sheets.

Ben had given her a verbal scolding as well for her disappearance and getting mixed up in the crowd/mob. Sarah took it all in stride though. By the time they reached home, both Ben and Sarah were exhausted and understandably so. After traveling all day all over the city and the mob, both siblings were tired to the bone.

"Are you alright?" Susanna asked reaching for a new dress for Sarah to wear. "You seem more tired than usual."

"That's because I am, Anna," Sarah sighed stripped off her dress and stepping into the tub filled with warm water. When Sarah walked in the house, Margret noticed the odd stench on her and prepared a bath for her, something Sarah was grateful for. The water relieved the tension in her legs and back and relaxed her muscles all over. In the moment, this seemed like the perfect bath to Sarah.

"Ben and I have been all over Boston today, selling merchandise we didn't need." Sarah explained running her fingers through her hair as she washed it.

"Typical of Ben, biting off more than he can chew," Susanna added placing the dress on the bed. She sat on a small chair and focused on her handwriting, practicing it and making sure it was neat. For some reason, Susanna was interesting in writings and compared to Susanna's hand, Sarah's looked like chicken scratch.

"I meant to ask you yesterday," Susanna continued not looking away from the sheet of paper, "did you see the assassin today?" Sarah looked up from washing her legs and gave Susanna a confused look. Sarah had always liked her legs. They were long and toned from constant use and lifting.

"An assassin?"

"Yes, supposedly he's been running around Boston, killing guards left and right," Susanna explained. How peculiar that sounded…

"No, I haven't. How did you come to hear of this?"

"I was walking with George this afternoon when we heard one of the town cries was speaking out about him." She paused as if remembering something. "And did you ear about that mob that went all the way to Kings Street! I swear Sarah, these are troubled times we live in! It's odd, this has never happened before. At least none that I remember."

"It is, very odd indeed," Sarah mused. "As for the mob, I did see it briefly while in the shop with Ben today, but nothing more." It would be wise not to tell Susanna that she was involved in that small bit of madness. No doubt Susanna would go the their stepmother and tell on Sarah. Sarah finished washing herself and wrapped her curvy, toned body in a towel. As she dried her hair Susanna helped Sarah with her corset.

"That young lieutenant was looking at you the other day," Susanna teased as she tied the string of the corset. She retuned back to her writing and Sarah groaned as she combed her hair.

"Do not remind me, please!" Sarah bemoaned. "He looked at me as though he knew what I looked like without my undergarments. There's something about him Anna I don't like. And I loathe the day when I have to see him again!"

Susanna only replied with a small smiled while Sarah picked up the room and went downstairs to help with dinner. Normally Ben was in the sitting room, reading or looking over paperwork, but today he was absent from his normal seat. Sarah poked her head in the kitchen.

"Where's Ben?"

"At a meeting," Abigail answered. "Some men came by earlier and told him they were meeting in the State House."

"When it's so close to dinner? That strikes me as a little odd," Sarah thought out loud. She looked around the kitchen and noticed that someone else was missing. "Where is Margret?"

"She needed to fetch something last minute for dinner, but no doubt Mother will be along soon!" Abby said with a bright smile. She hummed while she chopped the vegetables and meat. Sarah raised an eyebrow and leaned against the frame.

"What's got you so happy, little Abby?" she smiled. Abigail's neck and ears flushed a bright red and she sheepishly smiled.

"I've met someone today, Sarah! A dashing young man in the army!" Abby sighed completely love struck.

"Oh? What's his name?" Sarah asked filled with curiosity. It seemed as though everyone was out and about in Boston today.

"Thomas, Thomas Hickey!" Abby beamed. She set the knife down and wiped her hands. She ran towards Sarah, grabbed her hands and they spun in a circle while Abby continued on. "He talks a bit funny, but he's so funny and handsome Sarah! Oh you'd like him, I'm sure you would!"

Sarah pulled away before she got too dizzy. She leaned against the counter and shook her head to regain her balance. As much as Sarah wanted to be happy for Abigail, she was the most naïve out of all her siblings. Abigail was only fifteen and could easily be taken advantaged of. Sarah hid her concern with a smile.

"I'm happy for you Sarah, but don't think I'm taking this lightly," she warned. "As your older sister, it's my duty to protect you from harm. Should this Thomas fellow break your heart, I'll make sure he doesn't walk for a few days." Abigail rolled her eyes playfully.

"I know, and I'm grateful to have someone so loving and protective as you and Ben," Abigail smiled. She went back to the cutting and cooking, humming a merry tune all the while.

"I'm going to fetch Ben and bring him back for dinner. I should be back soon!" Sarah called from the door and she wrapped a scarf around her neck and pulled on a cloak and gloves.

"Be safe!" Abigail warned from the kitchen. Sarah hissed from the cold that stung her cheeks, but she quickly adjusted. The streets were starting to thin and it would be dark soon. She needed to find Ben fast before they got in trouble with the curfew. Sarah easily made it to the old State House and knocked on the door.

A middle-aged man in a wig and dirty clothes answered the door. "Yes?" he grumbled.

"Uh, I'm looking for Benjamin Townsend?" Sarah asked, a little unsure if he was even here in the first place.

"He left with Sam Adams towards Griffin's Wharf, supposedly they're going to dump the tea hoping to send a message to Britain." The information the man had given Sarah made her momentarily freeze with confusion. He had already started closing the door when Sarah started speaking again.

"Wait, what?" she huffed and bit her lip. "Oh Ben… What are you up to now?" Gathering her skirts, Sarah made her way down to Griffin's Wharf through the near-empty streets of Boston. It was dark by the time she reached her destination and there was a crowd gathering around two large cargo ships.

The crowd was mostly made up of men and some women, but they shouted nearly the same thing.

"Down with the Crown, and down with the tyrant king!"

"No taxation without representation!"

Sarah pushed her way towards the front of the crowd to get a better look. On the ships, a largish group of men were throwing crate after crate of tea into the harbor, shouting and hooting as they did. Sarah even spotted the angry chef from earlier. Just when things couldn't get even madder…

It was hard to see where Ben was with all the different men running to and fro on the vessel, but eventually she found him. Sarah ran towards the edge of the dock and yelled at the top of her lungs: "BENJAMIN TOWNSEND!"

That caused a few men to stop, but the quickly went back to dumping tea into the harbor. Ben turned his head and looked shocked at seeing his younger sister. He dropped the crate of tea in his hands and leaned over the rail.

"Sarah, what on earth are you doing? Have ya gone mad!" her brother shouted. Just when Sarah was about to reply, Ben looked panicked and pointed a finger to something behind Sarah. "More troops are coming!" Confused, Sarah turned around and was knocked down to the ground by a tubby and short guard carrying a musket.

"This is happening too often now!" Sarah huffed picking herself off the ground. The sound of metal clanging against metal rang into the night and Sarah looked up to see Connor expertly taking down the troops one by one. It made her cringe to look at such a gruesome sight, and it even made her feel ill. Covering her mouth with one hand and clutching her stomach with the other, Sarah retreated into the crowd and hid, trying to block out the din that surrounded her.

At least now she understood what all those weapons were for. Connor was a killer though; from the way he moved and handled that hatchet of his. It frightened Sarah and made her want to stay away from him. Sarah felt a sudden fear for her safety and that of her family and Ben especially. What if they had spoken business and made a deal already?

Did Ben not look with his eyes just now? How could they engage in business with something like that?

_I should have stayed home_, Sarah thought almost bitterly.

The noise died down eventually and the crowd began to disperse. Sarah continued to hide behind a stack of crates. She would wait for Ben here, and avoid looking at those…bodies if she could help it.

"Sarah! Sarah Townsend?" she heard Ben call. He sounded worried and scared. Maybe he thought she had gotten hurt when the Redcoats came? Sarah poked her head around the corner and Ben quickly caught her eye. A relieved look washed over his face and he ran towards her. Sarah slowly emerged from her hiding spot. Connor was behind him, standing at attention and looking at Sarah curiously.

_Please stop looking at me_, Sarah pleaded in her head hoping that Connor could hear her thoughts this one time. Ben pulled her into a tight hug and over Ben's shoulder Sarah could see Connor giving her a blank look. It wasn't cold, but it wasn't the warmest look either.

"I'm so glad you're safe sis," Ben smiled holding Sarah at arm's length. "What were you doing here in the first place?"

"I came to look for you since you weren't at home and Abby said that you had gone to a meeting at the State House and-!" Ben hushed her and patted her shoulder. He pieced the rest of the story in his mind and nodded knowingly.

"I understand," he began. "But please, try to avoid situations like this! Twice already you've put yourself in harm's way!"

"I know, I know," Sarah huffed. Her eyes left Ben's face and looked towards the mangled, bloodied, and battered bodies of the Redcoats that lay by the ramp of the ship. Then her eyes traveled to Connor. The hooded man shuffled his feet, almost guiltily. "Can we go home now?" she pleaded. Sarah really did not want to be here a moment longer. The smell of the blood and salt water was making her head swim and the sight was making her woozy.

"Yes! But, first there is something I want to share with you. Connor! Please, come!" Ben turned and waved a hand for Connor. The hooded figure slowly walked over, almost resenting having to.

_He knows I saw_, Sarah automatically thought.

"Connor and I have struck up a business deal!" _Oh no…_ "We're to set a up trade between his community and our shop! What do you think?" Ben seemed completely oblivious to Sarah's discomfort. He must be joking! How could Ben do business with a killer like Connor?! Sarah looked at her brother in disbelief, but he seemed completely unawares. The adrenaline of the night was still rushing through him, making Ben glow with happiness. Sarah's uneasily looked at Connor who gave her a pitying look.

"It sounds, ah… It sounds lovely. Ahem, Ben can we please go now?" Sarah practically snapped, loosing her patience. Ben gave her a curious look and nodded.

"I'll see you tomorrow morning, Connor," Ben held out his hand and Connor, almost uncomfortably, shook it. "Come on Sarah, best hurry home before Margret has both our heads." Ben led the way back home and despite her better judgment, Sarah looked over her shoulder and looked at Connor.

She was scared of him after seeing what he could do, and Sarah didn't hide that when she looked at him. Connor almost looked guilty but quickly looked away and began walking off in a different direction.

* * *

Time passed after that. Sarah had decided not to work in the shop after that odd and frightful and odd night. During the trades, Ben and Sarah never did direct business with Connor. It was always someone from a convoy he sent, something Sarah was immensely grateful for.

Occasionally Sarah did see Connor on the streets of Boston, but she immediately turned the other way. Sometimes when she did do that, it felt as if someone was following her. Sarah would always look behind her, but there would be no one there. She shook this off as paranoia and continued on with her business.

Boston rang in the New Year in the hopes that after, what they've called the "Boston Tea Party," that British presence in the city would ease off. Instead it multiplied three times over by the time March came around. Boston harbor was closed after that, much to both Ben and Sarah's chagrin.

"You sure your little tea party was worth it, Ben?" Sarah would tease. Ben would roll his eyes and tell Sarah to "put a sock in it." Because of the inconvenience caused by the harbor being closed, business slowed down almost overnight in the shop. Sarah saved every ounce of money she could to help everyone get by. She would never admit this, but trading with Connor helped keep their family financially afloat, though they still had to practically scrape by.

In September, a group of delegates met in Philadelphia to discuss the recent events happening in the colonies. They called it the first Continental Congress and they openly opposed the Coercive Acts, but more popularly known throughout the colonies as the Intolerable Acts, and rightly so.

Everything felt regimented and forced while living in Boston. Ben refused to sell certain goods in the shop because of the imposed tax and on more than one occasion, Sarah and her family had to accommodate to British troops. Elijah's group was a common visitor and sometimes he saw Sarah walking down the streets. He was becoming more and more aggressive in his advances and Sarah kept refusing him, much to Elijah's disappointment and anger.

It was in the late autumn of 1774 when things seemed to have begun to settle down. Ben turned 23; Sarah and Susanna turned 19; and Abby turned 16. Sarah and her family had gotten used to housing troops and having a slow business. Because Ben decided not to sell some merchandise because of the taxes being imposed, he had caught the attention of the guard. One day, they came into the shop, making threats about closing their family's business.

"You'd be'er watch your back, boy-yo," the captain warned leaning in to Ben's face. Sarah looked on from the other side of the shop as she shelved what little products they were selling. She bit her lower lip worriedly.

Ben gave the officer and impassive look, "Thank you for your concern gentlemen, but I assure you it's none of your concern what I do and do not do." The captain sneered at Ben before spitting at her brother's feet and leaving. Once they were gone, Sarah gave her brother a concerned look.

"We're in for it now," she sighed.

Sarah had been successful in avoiding Connor, and she wondered if he understood why she was doing what she did. Regardless, Sarah was grateful for Connor's silent understanding.

It was a chilly October evening when Sarah was walking home. She was leaving a failed business deal at Ben's suggestion to merger with another business to help their family stay afloat. It ended in disaster and the man practically laughed in Sarah's face. Whether it was because of her gender, Sarah didn't know.

But she briefly entertained the possibility that word was spreading around about how Ben had displeased the Crown by refusing to sell certain items. If that were the case, then it would be understandable if someone didn't want to do business with them. Who would want to do business with possible traitors and displeasers of the Crown?

Sarah sighed and rubbed her neck as she walked down the street to her home. Ben had closed the shop early and was waiting for Sarah to get back. According to Ben Sarah was the toughest negotiator in their family and made most of the business deals.

The sun was beginning to set and Sarah walked passed a lively tavern. Loud music and even louder laughter could be heard. She briefly looked at it and continued walking. The door of the tavern burst open and Sarah looked behind her. She felt her stomach drop. There stood Elijah with a large cup of beer in his hand and looked positively drunk. Sarah picked up the pace but the drunken lieutenant noticed her.

"Oy Missss Sarah!" he laughed leaning on his friend. Sarah's body stiffened and she slowly turned around wearing a fake friendly smile. Not like they would notice, Elijah and his little gang were too inebriated.

"This – hic! This is the gurrrlll… I – hic – told you boys about!" Elijah slurred finishing off his drink. It was only Elijah and two others, and Sarah felt slightly better. She could easily outrun them should anything happen. The man on Elijah's immediate left laughed luridly.

"She's prettier than you said, Eli," the man smirked and looked Sarah up and down. Sarah slowly backed away and the men didn't seem to notice.

"I don' know 'bout you, but I'd like to 'ave a go," the man on the far left said in a low voice. "I wonder what those pretty 'lil legs will feel like when I'm ramin' my cock into ya…" With that, Sarah stamped on the man's foot and ran off. "Whore! Piss!"

Sarah could hear footsteps behind her and cut into a nearby alley. She leaned against the wall to catch her breath. Sarah looked around the corner and didn't see anyone.

"Thank heaven," she sighed and began walking off till someone pushed her hard against the wall and began attacking her neck with their mouth. Sarah tried pushed the man off her, but he proved to be the stronger one. Despite all those years of heavy lifting it helped little. Elijah pinned Sarah's hands against the wall, trapping her.

"That wasn't very nice," he purred against her neck. Sarah squirmed and fidgeted, but Elijah pushed her into the wall harder. The smell of alcohol reeked and made Sarah cough.

"Stop, or I'll call the guard!" Sarah practically screamed. Elijah responded by shoving his tongue into her mouth. Sarah almost gagged and kicked him in the stomach. Elijah coughed and rested his head at the top of her breasts, but he refused to let go.

"Let them come, I'm friends with most of them anyway." Elijah continued his assault on Sarah's neck despite her constant struggling. "I wonder though… will these legs…" he ran his hand up Sarah's skirt.

_Someone help me!_

"These thighs…" he squeezed Sarah's thigh tightly.

_God, make him stop!_

"How will they feel when I'm having my way with this?" His hand nearly touched Sarah in a very intimate place when someone pulled his body away from hers.

"Assassin! What'er you doing here?!" Elijah sounded in a drunken manner. He sloppily took out his sword and did a poor job of defending himself against Connor. With a few expert maneuvers and swings of his hatchet, Elijah laid on the ground choking on his own blood.

Sarah leaned against the wall, near tears. She slowly sank to the ground and silently cried.

"Are you hurt?" Connor asked lowering himself to her eye level. Sarah cried for a few moments before answering him. She looked at him, trust and admiration shining in her eyes.

"No, I'm not," she sniffed. Connor pulled out a handkerchief and Sarah wiped her eyes with it. She caught a whiff of its scent. It smelt like…the woods: an open fire, wildflowers, and smoke. In some way it was comforting. But the thought of someone like Connor carrying a handkerchief seemed like a silly notion to Sarah and she began to giggle before going into a short burst of laughter.

"What is it?" Connor asked confused. First she was sobbing, now she was laughing? How fickle is woman…

"I never pictured you the type to carry around a handkerchief," Sarah laughed. She made a motion to give it back to him, but Connor held up his hand.

"Keep it. You may need it later," he said. Connor helped Sarah stand up and watch the young woman stuff the piece of cloth down her sleeve.

"Thank you Connor. I owe you a debt," Sarah smiled having fully regained her composure, though she was still shaken from the whole experience.

"Think nothing of it. Our business agreement is enough."

"Right," Sarah nodded and looked over towards the now dead body of Elijah. "Can't say I'll miss him. He's been trying to have me for months now."

"And did you ever refuse him?"

"The man didn't understand what the word 'no' meant!" Sarah laughed tucking a loose hair behind her ear. Connor briefly smiled and then looked intently at Sarah. The girl noticed this and she blushed slightly. She coughed awkwardly. "I apologize for, uhm… avoiding – you. I hope you understand why."

"I do, you need not explain." Sarah nodded knowingly and looked at Elijah's dead body once more.

"He called you an Assassin. Why is that?" Connor's body visibly stiffened. It must have been a touchy subject. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have prodded like that." After a long silence Connor finally spoke.

"It is a long complicated story," he began looking at Sarah thoughtfully. What would happen when he told Sarah everything? About the Assassins? About the Templars?

"You don't have to tell me, it's fine. You can tell me when you want to?"

Connor nodded, "I would like that." Sarah gave him a small smile and turned her attention back to the street.

"I need to get home," she said and turned to the body, "before something like _that_ happens again." She looked to Connor. "Escort me home?"

Connor nodded, a small smile on his face. At least this was a step forward. Because whether he realized it or not, a little part of him missed seeing Sarah.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: I've been dying to get to this part! This is where Connor and Sarah become closer! Yeah! This part isn't canon, I made it up to expand the story and use it as a bit of filler to make the story longer. So don't worry about spoilers! Also, I posted a new Assassin's Creed story that features Malik as the love interest! Please check it out and tell me what you think!**

**Thank you to all those that reviewed! I hope to see your names again in my email inbox! Haha.**

* * *

Sarah eventually began to warm up to Connor again, though it would be a lie to say that she was still on edge whenever he was near. After him rescuing her from Elijah's sexual assault, Sarah slowly began to grow a deep trust for Connor. When someone saves your life, as that usually tends to happen.

After that encounter, Connor's visits were more frequent than before. Sarah wasn't too concerned about it considering all the trouble going on in and around the city. Connor was building himself a bit of a reputation amongst the guards, but there was one word that was constantly on their lips: assassin.

Whenever Sarah and Connor spoke, she wanted so badly to ask why he was known as an assassin. True he went around killing guards that harassed citizens and petty tax collectors were no exceptions to his axe either, but there was just something odd about the word itself when connotated with Connor. As much as Sarah wanted to ask, she never did. He would tell her when he wanted to and Sarah left it at that.

But there was also something else behind his constant presence; it seemed to Sarah, that some times Connor was protecting her from some deep secret. She wondered if it had something to do with the title of assassin that Connor seemed to have picked up, or something else. Something more…sinister. But having nothing to really think or go on, Sarah disregarded that thought and tried to live merrily in the moment.

Sarah enjoyed their conversations. Connor was such an interesting character in her eyes, and he had this aura of mystery about him that almost seemed alluring. But Connor was a very private person when it came to talking about himself, or whom he called his "Mentor", but he would go on and on about the people he lived with in his community and his tribe.

They laughed about the antics of two men named Terry and Godfrey and Sarah often told embarrassing stories about her own siblings to Connor, which ensued in more laughter. It was all a fascinating dynamic the way they talked. And it was very heart warming to Sarah having someone to tell these stories with. It also came to a point where Sarah's discomfort began to ebb away.

Whenever Connor spoke about the Homestead or his village, Sarah would always say with a small, but bright smile: "I should like to see it one day."

Connor had also taken on a bit of a protective role when it came to Sarah. After talking with Sarah and getting to know her more, Connor began to see her as a friend, and a good friend at that. After the fiasco with Elijah, Connor also became more protective of Sarah's well being. He would escort her home whenever he could or simply help her with an errand she undertook by herself.

"Is it strange?" Connor asked one day. Sarah had been running an errand for Margret to get the ingredients for dinner. She was having trouble carrying the duck in one arm while balancing a basket of vegetables in the other. Luckily for Sarah, Connor was walking by and had been un-preoccupied.

"Is what strange?" Sarah asked sniffing tomatoes, looking for a ripe one.

"Being in business," Connor said shifting the duck in his arms. "It's not very common to see a woman partake in such a role."

Sarah couldn't help but laugh while she placed a couple tomatoes in the basket. "The matter of my sex should not be a variable on how successful I am, or how I am to live my life." She turned towards Connor, her smile never faltering. "I have easily proven that a woman can be just as successful as a man in business, regardless of partnership or not. There was no way Ben could have done half as well had I not been there to help. He's a terrible negotiator and not to keen on working with numbers."

Connor nodded his head thoughtfully. "I see your point. I apologize if I may have offended you."

"Ever the polite one," Sarah laughed leading the way out of the market and back to her house. "Don't worry, my friend. It'll take much more than that to offend me."

When they reached the house, Susanna had opened the door and quickly too the basket out of Sarah's hand. The twin caught a brief glance at Connor who handed Sarah the duck carcass.

"Connor, I'd like you to meet my twin sister, Susanna." Sarah gestured towards her sister, then back to Connor. The assassin politely nodded his head.

"Miss Townsend," Connor said in a soft, polite tone. Susanna mimicked the same gesture.

"How do you do." She greeted with a polite smile. Susanna stuck out her hand for Connor to shake, but he just looked at it for a moment before Susanna took it back. She coughed awkwardly. "I'll see you inside." Sarah nodded and turned her attention back to the man in front of her.

"You and your sister are complete opposites," Connor said almost immediately. Sure they looked the same physically, but where Sarah was more forthcoming and stubborn, Susanna came off more timidly and almost weak. Sarah couldn't help but laugh when Connor said that.

"Most people aren't quick to see that. You're definitely one of the few people to say that." She looked at Connor for a moment; appreciative for all the help he had provided the past year and a half. "Thank you for your help Connor. No doubt I would still be stuck on Kings Street had you not been there." Sarah smiled brightly while the hooded man simply nodded his head, a faint smirk on his lips.

"You're welcome Sarah," he said. "I shall see you soon."

"Likewise!" With that Connor disappeared into the crowd as he usually did. Sarah had grown used to it rather quickly, watching her friend come and go, becoming one with the crowd. Sarah walked into the kitchen setting down the duck in the counter. Will and his family were coming over for dinner, hence why Margret wanted to make something as fancy as roasted duck.

Susanna was preoccupying herself by cutting and cleaning the vegetables. Sarah grabbed a few of the wine glasses and began to wipe them clean. Susanna briefly looked up at her sister and smirked. "He's rather handsome, I'll admit."

"Who?" Sarah asked not looking away from the glass, only paying half attention.

"Connor! Who else?" Susanna laughed setting the tomatoes aside. Sarah had thought about it from time to time how attractive Connor was, but it never swayed her or bothered her in the slightest.

"I suppose he is," Sarah mused picking up another glass and began to wipe it clean. Susanna laughed and shook her head. "What is it now, Anna?"

"Nothing, nothing!" her sister replied innocently.

"Yes, I'm really convinced." Sarah said with cutting sarcasm. Susanna was used to that. She laughed at Sarah inwardly for the rest of the evening helping Margret cook and trying to keep their stepmother away from the wine as much as possible. All four children wanted her somewhat sober when Will and his family arrived.

Susanna was giddy when Will arrived. She had even put on a little perfume for tonight, something Sarah teased Susanna for. At the table though, the two seemed lost in their own world. Will placed his hand on Susanna's thigh and they held hands tightly underneath the table when they thought no one was looking. It was sweet to see and Sarah smiled for her sister's happiness.

Margret and Mrs. Pickard were engrossed in the latest gossip, sipping on wine and giggling like they were schoolgirls. Ben and George shook hands talked business, Sarah included. While the three of them talked, Margret was helping herself to a tall glass of wine, hiccupping all the while. Mrs. Pickard too. That was becoming a bit of normality in the household. But Abby seemed constantly distracted.

Sarah was sitting next to her youngest sister at the table and she gently nudged Abigail. Her sister snapped out of her daydream.

"What Sarah?"

"Are you alright Abby? You seem so preoccupied."

"Oh, I'm fine," Abby sighed. Sarah knew right away that her sister was lying. She gave Abby a look that the latter was all too familiar with. "It's just… Thomas has been acting…odd!"

Sarah raised a brow. "Odd how?"

"Oh, I don't know! Whenever I see him, he stinks of alcohol and…perfume! I never suspected him to be faithful or honest, but I figured he treat me with a little more dignity!" Abby was more than frustrated. She seemed head-over-heels for this Thomas fellow the other day, and now all of a sudden the object of her affections was treating her like some common streetwalker.

Sarah held her sister's hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "If I ever see him, I will personally make it so he never walks for a long time."

Abby rolled her eyes and patted her sister's hand. "Don't worry about me, Sarah. If I see Thomas, I'll set him straight. He won't make a fool out of me anymore." She smiled sweetly at her sister.

"Good!" Sarah replied with a nod of approval. Ben stood up and held a glass of wine in his hand.

"May I have your attention, please?" the table quieted down almost immediately. "Thank you. George Pickard and I have been talking about the arrangement between Susanna and Will. And," he paused, a huge smile plastered on his face, "George and I both came to the agreement that, instead of waiting for Susanna to come of age, her and Will shall be married next year!"

Will seemed to be expecting the news more than Susanna, judging from their reactions. Susanna looked completely stunned and tears of joy filled her eyes. She looked towards Will, who in turn looked at her with all the affection in the world. They kissed briefly while the rest of the table clapped and cheered.

"To the future bride and groom!" George Pickard toasted. Everyone else at the table raised their glasses and clinked them together.

"To the bride and groom!" No one was happier for Susanna at that moment than Sarah. After all that had befallen their family, this was a happiness that could benefit them all.

_She deserves all the happiness in the world_, Sarah thought happily.

* * *

The elation of the announcement from last night faded fast as reality set in again. Business was getting worse and worse. It was a constant frustration to Sarah and Ben with the closing of Boston Harbor that added to the business struggles. With all the taxes and regulations, it was difficult on what could be sold in the shop. Soon it came to a point where Ben and Sarah were forced to close the shop.

The troops banged on the door. "By order of King George III, OPEN THIS GODDAMN DOOR!" Ben had a pistol nearby in case things took a turn for the worst. Sarah stood behind the counter, trying to calm her frayed nerves by cleaning. Her hands shook, her heart beat rapidly in her chest, and she took deep breaths. At any moment, Sarah thought she would faint from sheer anxiety of what was about to happen next.

Ben opened the door and stepped aside, waving an arm out as the small troop of soldiers walked in. The captain looked around, almost disgusted by everything, or lack thereof, that was being on display.

"Can I help you, gentlemen?" Ben asked politely as his voice would allow. He was just as sacred as Sarah, maybe more. He clasped his hands together to hide the fact that they were shaking as well.

"Yes…" the captain began slowly. "Benjamin Townsend, isn't it?"

"Yes, that's correct." Ben answered trying to keep his voice steady. The captain looked at Ben like he had uttered an amusing joke. The officer took long steps and stood in front of Ben. He was barely taller than him, by half an inch at the very least.

"You are hereby ordered to close this establishment," the captain said with a smirk on his face. The news hit both Ben and Sarah hard. They looked at each other in disbelief and slowly Sarah covered her mouth with her hand.

_Surely they can't be serious!_

"You have 24 hours to sell the last bit of your merchandise before the Crown permanently closes this tacky little shop of yours. If you are caught in the same practice again, you will be arrested for insubordination!" the captain leaned in close to Ben's face. "Am I clear, Mr. Townsend?"

"On whose authority?" Ben snapped. The captain stood up straight and took out a folded piece of parchment from his inner coat pocket.

"By order from General Bradley, who takes his orders directly from the King himself!" Ben took the piece of parchment and tore it open. The captain and his troop turned to leave, but the leader turned around one last time to say, "Remember! 24 hours!"

Sarah rushed to her brother's side. "What does it say, Ben?"

"It's true," he chocked on his own words. Sarah's heart dropped and how badly did it ache! "We have the next day to sell the last bit we have before the Crown closes our shop."

"Ben…" Sarah soothed, rubbing her hand on his shoulder. Ben stared impassively at the ground before crumpling up the piece of paper and screaming his head off around the shop. Sarah jumped back and watched her brother move around like a mad man. He threw jars of preserves to the ground and threw pieces of paper everywhere. How badly Sarah wanted to say something, but what could she say?

Ben did this for a few more minutes before he stopped. He leaned against the counter, panting, his shoulders shaking from his silent crying. Sarah wrapped her arms around her brother and hugged him tightly. Ben didn't return the embrace; he just stood there sobbing.

"We've let down father," he said quietly. "We've disappointed him." Sarah held her brother at arms length and took out Connor's handkerchief to wipe some of Ben's tears.

"Don't talk like that Benjamin!" Sarah scolded. "Papa would be proud of us how we've carried on. We made it last as long as we could, but now…" Sarah swallowed her own tears, "Now we need to move on. We have enough money saved up that'll give us time for you to find work. And, and maybe Susanna, Margret and I could start a tailoring business?"

Ben looked at his sister with a half-smile. "Business is something we need to stay away from, sis. We need to think of something else."

"Better do it soon then," Sarah said with a bitter smirk.

* * *

It was November and Ben had terrible luck finding work. Sarah sold the last bit of their merchandise to Connor the day they closed their shop. She knew Connor would give her a better deal than anyone in Boston could.

"Sarah, you have my deepest condolences," he said looking at her deeply. Sarah gave him a half-smile and loaded the last crate onto the wagon that was heading towards the Davenport Homestead.

"It happens," she said rather plainly. "To be honest, I'm surprised at how long Ben and I kept the shop going despite everything." Sarah took one last look to make sure that all the inventory was accounted for. "Everything seems to be in order. Your convoy is ready to go."

"Thank you," Connor said. He kept looking at Sarah with a deep, concerning look. "If there's anything I could do, please let me know."

"We're a proud family, Connor." Sarah laughed but there was no amusement in it. "Even in despair, we refuse to ask for help even if it benefits us. Besides, I'd hate to owe an even greater debt to you than I already have."

Connor nodded thoughtfully and told the driver that he was free to go. The driver snapped the reigns and soon the last bit of her father's shop left. Sarah placed the back of her hand over her mouth and took deep breaths. She was shaking all over and not from the cold. Sarah needed to calm down otherwise she would have another breakdown. She could feel Connor's gaze on her still, but Sarah didn't return it. Not immediately anyway.

"There is some good news thought to be had," she said trying to lighten the situation, more so for her. "My sister is going to be married next year."

"That is wonderful to hear," Connor said in his normal, plain tone. Sarah nodded and smiled, finally returning his gaze. Her eyes were red no doubt after crying yesterday all afternoon and night.

"It is," Sarah replied. "We need some happiness despite all the chaos around us." They stood there for a moment, enjoying the silence while Sarah tried to calm her nerves.

_Should I ask her now?_ Connor thought. It didn't seem like a good time, but he needed her help.

"Sarah, I need to ask you something," Connor said, dropping his voice to a serious tone. She looked at him oddly and sniffed.

"What is it?"

"It is something that is best not to be said out in the open."

Giving him one more odd look, Sarah led the way to the backroom of the shop. It was still in her family's ownership for a few more hours before they had to hand it over for sale. Sarah quietly closed the door behind her and faced Connor. Despite being in a private place, he didn't lower his hood.

"What is it you want to ask me?"

"I need your helping in catching a smuggler." Sarah looked confused. "This isn't your average one, either."

"Well, what kind is it?" she asked a little uneasy. Connor hesitated for a moment. He worried that if he told Sarah, she would get scared and leave. But he needed her help; Sarah was the only person Connor had enough trust to do this mission with. Finally after a moment of silence he looked at Sarah.

"A human smuggler," Connor said. Sarah's face twisted into several emotions: first she was shocked, then she was appalled, and then she looked terrified. But she didn't runaway. If Connor wasn't mistaken, Sarah looked slightly…curious.

"What?" she asked completely breathless. "Why do you need my help catching a human smuggler?"

"He is supposed to attend Governor Gage's Christmas ball," Connor began. "I managed to get two tickets as entry, one for you, and one for me."

"Yes, I understand that but why do you need my help exactly?"

Connor paused trying to find the right words. "He has been causing even more tension between the citizens of Boston and the Redcoats. I fear my enemies are behind this, but what they hope to gain, I do not know. The smuggler has a weakness for attractive women and I figured that you could lure him and could deliver the finishing blow."

Sarah stood there for a moment, processing the information. "Who are your enemies, exactly?" Connor's body visibly tensed and he fiddled with his thumbs. "Connor?" he looked up from his feet. "I think now would be a good time why a select few of Boston call you an 'assassin.'"

She was right, Connor had cornered himself into telling Sarah everything. He could no longer dance around this issue.

* * *

"So, let me see if I have this correct: you're a man who jumps from rooftops, swinging an axe, murdering those who try to control all of humanity?"

"Yes," was the rather plain reply. Sarah nodded her head once, and sighed deeply. It was so much to take in. Secret brotherhoods, sacred objects that have been fought for over a millennia? It made Sarah's head swim.

"Right then," was all she could say. "What could possibly go wrong?"

Connor laughed lightly, "You'd be surprised." Sarah shook her head and massaged her temples. She was getting a blistering headache. "But Sarah," Connor began again, "now that you know this information, you're more susceptible to be captured by my enemies. Should anything happen to you, I would not be able to forgive myself."

"Does that mean you'll watch over me more?"

Connor shrugged. "Possibly, maybe." Sarah nodded thoughtfully and looked at Connor with a vacant expression. They only had one more hour of privacy left before the British came to officially close the family shop.

"This is a lot to take in, Connor," Sarah replied almost mournfully.

"I know. I will understand if you chose not to help me, but there is no one I trust more to help me carry out this mission."

"I appreciate that you hold me in that regard, Connor. I really do." Sarah gave him a genuine smile that helped ease some of the tension the assassin was feeling on the inside. All Sarah wanted was peace, but after what Connor had just told her, it seemed that Boston wouldn't be having that anytime soon. But…in killing this one man, it might be a step forward. A step towards a better future; something to benefit all than just a select few, based on the way Connor explained the Templars.

"So, will you help me?"

"Depends," Sarah began walking towards the door. "Can you find me some fabric to make a dress with?"


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Connor dances in the next installment. Let the lulz commence! I love your reviews! Please keep them coming!**

* * *

On a somewhat empty street corner, if one looked close enough, it would seem that a couple were whispering sweet nothings to another, completely engrossed in each other. That wasn't entirely the case however.

"What's the man's name?"

"His name is Nathan Hamilton. He's a close associate with General Gage as well, I am to believe." Sarah nodded thoughtfully. The name sounded vaguely familiar. Perhaps she heard it on the streets whenever a small troop of soldiers passed by her.

"What exactly will you need?"

"Black and white lace, some crème colored fabric to make a stomacher and petticoat with, and dark blue satin to make the actual dress with."

"…That's quite a lot. Why not just buy a new dress? Why go through the extra trouble of making one?"

"If it's all the same to you Connor, I'd rather spend the money I earned to feed my family than on a material possession I'll probably only use once."

A moment of silence fell between them.

"I understand. I apologize for my indiscretion."

"Think nothing of it." Sarah waved a hand. "If I were to fret over silly comments, I'd be more a fool than wise. And don't worry about the needle and thread; I'll take care of that. But this dress is going to take a while to complete, so I need the fabrics and lace as soon as possible." She gave Connor a questioning look.

"What?"

"Do you know how to dance, Connor?"

The assassin looked a little embarrassed. "No, not really." Connor shifted his weight on his feet while Sarah gently patted his shoulder, comfortingly.

"I would teach you, but I simply don't have the time. I'm sorry, my friend. Perhaps you're mentor teach you? If you're going to a ball, you should at least know how to dance the Minuet and Virginia reel."

Perhaps Achilles did know a few dances, but the dances Sarah mentioned required partners. Connor briefly imagined dancing with Achilles, trying to learn such dances and it made the assassin feel awkward. If he could, maybe he could avoid dancing altogether? That sounded like a good plan.

"He might be," Connor replied. Sarah nodded and patted his shoulder again.

"The ball is during Christmas Eve, yes?" Connor nodded. "Hmm, I should be able to finish the dress past a fortnight if I work on it day and night. Remember to get me the fabric as soon as possible." Connor nodded again and Sarah trotted off back to her home.

_I've agreed to just help kill a man_, Sarah thought while she walked home. The idea made her body weak. She felt sick and disgusted with herself. But Sarah tried to reason her conscious that the man needed to die to keep peace within the city, but still the guilt would gnaw within her. Sarah often prayed that God would forgive her for the deed she planned to do.

* * *

Not even a day passed before a package arrived at Sarah's door with the fabrics she needed. She used Susanna to help with the measurements needed to make the dress, considering they were both the same measurements and it proves difficult to measure your own body.

"Why are you making this gown again?" Susanna asked standing on a stool while Sarah walked around her, poking pins here and there on the fabric that needed to be tucked in or stretch. "I don't think you ever told me."

Sarah felt her pulse quicken. She never really thought about what she would say to her family when they say her working on the dress. Though she was internally panicking, Sarah tried her best to hide it. Susanna didn't seem to notice, which helped Sarah calm down a notch. Sarah took out a few of the pins she held between her teeth and pushed them into the silky fabric. It seemed Connor paid no expense to get very fine, high quality fabric. Sarah could already see what a fine dress it would be.

"With fine satin such as this, I would assume you were making a ball gown!" Susanna laughed, caressing the fabric between her thumb and index finger. Sarah was going through inner turmoil. Should she tell Susanna? If Sarah were to do that, what would she say?

"Well," Sarah began trying to come up with a reason, "I am making a ball gown, but it's for a friend."

Susanna quirked a brow, "What friend is this? I don't think I've ever met them. And no offense Sarah, but your stitching isn't all that…good." Sarah shot her sister a dry, unamused look to which her sister laughed at. "I'm sorry Sarah!"

Sarah's look softened and she lightly laughed, "No, you have a point Anna. You have the best stitching in this entire household." Both sisters laughed for a minute while Sarah finished putting in the last pins in the fabric.

"So, who is the dress for?" Susanna asked stepping down onto the floor. Sarah helped her twin take off the mess of fabric and lace and gently laid it out on the nearby table.

"It's for Caroline Greene," Sarah replied in a smooth voice, making up a name. "Her family recently moved to Boston from the country and I became acquainted with her husband while Ben and I ran the shop." Even talking about the business made Sarah's heartache. She bit the inside of her cheek and unpinned the stomacher from the main portion of the dress. Susanna watched her sister with pitying eyes.

Sarah was never the type of person to cry in front of people. She and Ben were always the ones who wanted to look strong for the family. It was something Susanna admired in her twin; admired, and pitied. Susanna wrapped a comforting arm around Sarah.

"I know you miss the shop, sis," Susanna said. "We all do." Sarah wore a half-grin and squeezed her sister's hand. They smiled before looking back at the dress. "Would you like some help?"

"Please!" Sarah begged. They both laughed again as Sarah took the lace while Susanna took the roll of crème fabric to make the petticoat with. "Caroline wants the opening on the petticoat to have lace stitched onto it. The hems on the sleeves with this black lace, and also on the dress where the petticoat opens and by the stomacher."

Susanna nodded and began to cut out the shape of a skirt. It was comfortable working they way they did. A fire roared in the hearth warming the sitting rooms in which the girls worked.

"How's Will doing?" Sarah asked cutting a bit of lace and seeing that it would fit properly onto the stomacher.

"Will is doing wonderful!" Susanna beamed. She was glowing with happiness and Sarah couldn't help but smile. It was so sweet the way Susanna would blush or beam when talking about Will. They seemed like a much better match than when Sarah was to marry him.

"His father's business has been hit rather hard, but they are still doing alright," Susanna added.

"How lovely for them," Sarah said with a polite smile as she began to sew. Inside though she was seething with jealousy. Sarah felt her family's business deserved to stay open more than Will's. Sarah had worked harder and put in all her effort to keep the store afloat before it all went to hell. But Sarah hid her bitterness well. The only person who really knew how Sarah felt was Ben, but that was because he felt the same. Connor didn't really know about Will or his family's business to know, but she had a feeling that he knew she was jealous of other stores that were still open.

"Will's practically counting down the days till we're married," Susanna laughed.

"Have you two settled on a date, yet?" Sarah asked with a coy smile.

"June 4th! We both agreed on it," Susanna squealed in her seat. She looked like a small child, excited about being able to have dessert before dinner. Sarah smiled softly. The date was soon, but not too soon to where they had to rush preparations.

"I'm very happy for you, Anna," Sarah smiled at her twin. Susanna returned it before going back to stitching white lace onto the petticoat.

"How does Mrs. Greene want the lace sewn on?"

"In layers, like ruffs." Sarah replied without missing a beat.

_If I am going to a ball, I'll be going like a Queen_.

* * *

Luck had turned back to their side again. Ben had found work in one of George Pickard's stores as a manager. Ben had thanked the man up and down when offered the job. George Pickard heard about the family's trouble from Susanna and took pity. There was an opening at a job and Ben, wanting so badly to help his family, put pride aside and took the job.

Sarah, wanting to be useful and not sit around the house, found a small apprenticeship with a tailor woman named Molly Howard. Mrs. Howard was a kind, elderly woman who helped Sarah strengthen her sewing skills, which helped in finishing her ball gown sooner than Sarah, or even Susanna expected. When the dress was finished, Susanna asked when Sarah would deliver it.

Sarah, having other plans for the gown, lied coolly that "Caroline Greene" had changed her mind and decided not to buy the dress, telling Sarah that she could "keep" it. While Susanna thought this to be odd, she shrugged her shoulders and let it go, too lost in her own happiness to really care. For the rest of November and most of December, the dress hung in the wardrobe, waiting to be used.

Sarah used the last bit of black lace to tie around her neck, like a necklace and even made a new cap to go with it. She was proud of her work and beamed with pride whenever she looked upon her new gown. It was hard to not think of the deed Sarah was going to do while wearing this beautiful dress. The idea was getting easier to deal with, but it still shook her nonetheless.

While Ben labored and Sarah honed her skills, Susanna was busy with planning for her wedding. She would hum and smile around the house, completely head over heels in love. While it was heartwarming to see, it also became annoying occasionally.

Abigail was away from home most of the time (much to the family's concern), and Margret was often bedridden due to depression and her problems with alcohol. Sarah inwardly chided Margret about her uselessness and poor state. Sarah wished that her stepmother would get up and do something, but she never did, and it was impolite to "talk that way to Margret," according to Susanna. It annoyed Sarah to no end the hazed, drunken state Margret was in most of the time, but while she was angry with her stepmother, she was more concerned about Abigail.

Abigail would be gone most of the day almost everyday and would come home late, passed dinner. Sarah, Susanna, and Ben confronted her about it, but Abigail wouldn't say anything, though she would reek of sweat, beer, and (what Sarah assumed) spit, like someone had their mouth all over Abigail. It made the sibling sick with rage and concern, but the more they tried to talk to Abigail, the more distant she became. Soon they just stopped talking about it all together.

During the whole November and most of December, Sarah hadn't seen hide or hair of Connor. While she did worry, Sarah reassured herself that Connor was perfectly capable of taking care of himself. She even entertained the idea that he was taking dancing lessons. Thinking of an amusing image like that helped ease Sarah's worries.

The ball was three days away and Sarah was walking home from Mrs. Howard's shop. It was dusk and a light snow was falling from the sky. Sarah felt light and happy. Things were going very well with Ben's new job, her apprenticeship with Mrs. Howard, Susanna's happiness was infectious at times, but Sarah hoped that Abigail would be home. She didn't want to have to worry for another night where her sister might be.

Sarah turned on to the next corner and saw a familiar figure leaning against the opposite wall. He had his arms crossed and one leg stretched out while the other he used to lean against the wall on using his foot. She smiled warmly.

"Hello Connor! Merry Christmas to you!" the assassin nodded and rose up from his position. "Have you been in Boston long?"

"I arrived today," Connor answered in usual soft, plain voice. Sarah nodded and continued walking. Connor easily caught up with her and matched her pace. "Is everything ready?"

"Yes," Sarah nodded matching his seriousness, but still keeping her tone light. She was happy to see him. "My dress is finished, all that's left is to wait for the day." Connor hummed, showing that he understood. They walked in silence for a moment. "Where have you been the past few weeks? Taking dancing lessons?" Sarah joked.

Connor wore a small half-smile, but it quickly disappeared. Actually, that's exactly what he was doing. The moment he was able, Connor asked Achilles to teach him how to ballroom dance. The old man laughed for a solid minute, not helping Connor's embarrassment. But Achilles agreed that he would and Diana was a good teacher and dancing partner.

When Connor first tried to learn the Minuet, it felt as though he had two left-feet, and Achilles would laugh some more, making Connor more embarrassed and frustrated. Diana was patient and understanding, and soon within a couple weeks, Connor was able to dance "like a nobleman!" According to Diana anyway.

"Something like that," Connor replied his smooth voice. Sarah giggled and bit the inside of her cheek, trying not to laugh a loud.

"I'm sorry, I don't know why I'm laughing!" she breathed, her face red from holding in laughter. Connor smiled and shook his head. For the rest of the walk, Sarah filled in on the on-goings in her family, to which Connor gave his own version of an enthusiastic response. He was rather private, as usual, but some new people came to settle on the Homestead, expanding it even more.

"I'm glad to hear that you're doing well, Connor," Sarah smiled brightly at him. Connor returned the gesture but on a smaller scale. The Townsend house came into view and Sarah turned to her companion. Sarah looked at him for a second, conflicted. Connor raised a brow as to what she was thinking, but was caught off-guard when Sarah wrapper her arms around him, embracing him. She had to stand on the tips of her toes in order to really do so.

Connor awkwardly patted her back, but as she embraced him, he caught of whiff of the scent of her hair. Sarah smelt like lavender and fresh clean clothes, perhaps a trademark for working in a tailor's shop. It was…soothing, in a way to Connor; the way her body molded against his, the smell of her hair, how her thin arms easily wrapped around him… Connor may or may have not been blushing during the entire time.

_He smells like the woods and soap_, Sarah thought. _It's nice_. Even through the thick robes and her dress, Sarah could feel how muscular Connor was…how _strong_. It was very interesting in a way that Sarah couldn't explain, but she knew that she wanted to feel whatever she was again.

Sarah pulled away, smiling brightly at him; her green eyes shining in the snow. "I'll see you Saturday, Connor." She took a few steps back, still looking at him. Connor dumbly nodded his head and Sarah gave a small laugh before turning her back towards him. Connor briefly wondered what she would look like Saturday; with any type of finery she might have acquired that past month.

* * *

Susanna gushed again for the hundredth time tonight, "Oh Sarah! This dress is so beautiful on you!" And it certainly made Sarah feel that way. The dress was made of dark blue satin with an open skirt that revealed a layered petticoat, stitched with white lace that was layered on top of the other. The stomacher was the same crème color as the petticoat, but Sarah had stitched a small floral patter in a blue-green color on it while white lace was sewn over the stomacher itself.

The bodice was a little low, showing off Sarah's well-endowed chest, something Susanna didn't seem to take notice considering she was more conservative with some things than Sarah. The sleeves were hemmed with black lace and the open part of the skirt was well.

For make-up, Sarah wore rogue on her lips, making them look fuller than they already were. She even used the same paste, albeit a very small amount, as a way to make her cheeks rosier. For added measure, Sarah drew a small beauty mark under her right eye and curled her hair into loose waves. The rogue made her green eyes stand out even more. With the dress and makeup combined, Sarah looked like a completely different person.

"How Mrs. Howard procured tickets to Governor Gage's ball, I will never know," Susanna sighed, but the smile never left her face. Sarah had managed to convince Susanna that Mrs. Howard invited Sarah to escort her to the governor's ball and since in reality Howard was a Loyalist, the story seemed to convince Susanna. Sarah thought she had become a pretty convincing liar after all this.

Sarah smiled at her twin while tied the lace around her neck. After doing so there was a brief knock at the door. Margret had turned in for the night and was snoring away in her bedroom otherwise she normally would have gotten the door. Ben was working late and as for Abby… Well, Abby hadn't come home yet. Even though Sarah and Susanna worried, both sisters were too enthralled of the thought of a ball and fancy dinner plates.

While Susanna went downstairs to answer the door, Sarah grabbed a muff and cloak. She heard voices downstairs and could differentiate between a male and female voice. Connor was here. Suddenly Sarah began to panic. What was he going to wear? What if he was asked to dance even though Connor probably didn't know how to? Would his cover be blown for some inexplicable reason?

Taking a deep breath to calm her nerves, Sarah slowly walked down the hall towards the stairs. The closer she got, the more defined the Susanna and Connor's voices became.

"I thought Sarah was going to accompany Mrs. Howard to Governor Gage's ball?" Susanna asked accusingly with her hands on her hips. She was getting suspicious fast. Luckily Connor was a man to think quickly on his feet.

"Mrs. Howard is indisposed for the night with a cold," Connor began. "I am a close friend of hers and she asked me to accompany Sarah. She felt bad for-" He cut off mid-sentence when he saw Sarah coming down the steps. For a moment Connor didn't recognize her with how she styled her hair and makeup, but as he looked closer, the more Sarah looked…beautiful.

She shyly smiled and inwardly breathed a sigh of relief. He wore a captain's uniform, the ones worn by sailors. Did Connor even own a ship? Or did he get it by other means…?

"Sarah," Connor greeted with a small bow, pressing his tricorne hat to his chest. He certainly looked like a gentleman, though one with Spanish or Italian blood. Sarah smiled warmly at him and held out her hand.

"Connor," she greeted in an equally polite tone. For manners sake, and according to Achilles it was considered proper, Connor took Sarah's hand and softly kissed the back of it. Susanna looked between the two oddly, but the charade seemed to have convinced her. Her frown melted and she beamed at Sarah.

"Tell me everything when you get back!" Susanna gushed and pulled her sister into a hug. Sarah gently patted her sister's back while they hugged and when they pulled apart, Susanna gave Connor a cautionary look before heading towards the sitting room to work on her present for Will.

"Shall we be off?" Sarah asked tying the cloak around her neck and stuffing her hand in one end of the muff. Connor nodded, placed his cap back on, and remembering his lessons in etiquette, opened the front door for Sarah.

Outside a carriage waited, the driver leaning against it as he pulled his jacket tighter around him. Sarah quirked a brow curiously, but didn't say anything. The man instantly perked up when he saw Connor walking out.

"Master Kenway!" he said and opened the carriage door. Sarah walked up to the man first and took his open hand as he helped her inside.

"Thank you, sir," Sarah said in a soft, polite voice.

"Ma'am!" the man smiled. Connor sat opposite of Sarah and she looked at him with an amused smiled. The driver closed the carriage door and took his seat. He snapped the reigns and the carriage moved forward at a comfortable pace. While Connor looked out the window, Sarah kept smiling at him, utterly amused by everything. He looked her up and down with the same curiosity. She was very beautiful tonight…

"What?" the assassin asked looking at Sarah. She simply closed her eyes and her smile grew. The seats were rather plush and the fabric on the walls had an elegant, abstract design. This must have costed Connor a pretty penny to use for the night. Sarah found herself smiling even more.

"A carriage, eh?" she asked, a hint of laughter in her voice. Connor smirked and went back to looking out the window.

"I, needed to make this convincing," Connor replied simply turning his attention back to Sarah. The girl giggled and briefly nodded her head. She wasn't entirely convinced. Part of her wanted to think Connor did this to impress her, but maybe that was the self-confidence talking since she felt very attractive tonight; like no man would be able to resist her.

"Are you a captain of a ship as well?" Sarah asked after a moment of silence. She observed his outfit more closely and judging from the quality of the fabric, Connor could easily pass for a gentleman.

"I am," Connor replied briefly looking at Sarah. That shade of blue perfectly suited her pale skin and made her green eyes stand out. Connor thought that Sarah should wear blue more often. It was a color that complimented her looks.

"What's her name?"

"The _Aquila_."

"Sounds like a strong, but elegant name. I like it!" she smiled at him for a brief moment before looking out the window. The sound of laughter and music could be heard and the governor's mansion came into view. A light snow began to fall, and somehow it seemed to make the night feel more enchanted to Sarah. Tonight, she felt like royalty. If only there wasn't this dark deed hanging over her head.

The driver stopped the carriage and was behind five others. He stepped from his seat and opened the door. The driver held out his hand and Sarah accepted it, stepping out of the carriage and into the cold. She buried her hands in her muff and watched Connor tip the man as he stepped out of the carriage.

"Thank you Fredrick. Bring the carriage back to the front in an hour and a half. This shouldn't take long," Connor said in an even tone.

"Sir!" Fredrick nodded and took the driver's seat again, leading the horses to the side of the house where the other carriages were parked.

They were here. They were actually here. Sarah had distracted herself with amusement of the carriage and how regal Connor looked, but now? Now she was about to enter the lion's den. Sarah swallowed nervously and took a deep breath.

"Are you ready?" Connor asked offering his arm. Sarah looked at him with concern for a moment, but the reassurance in his eyes helped ease her frayed nerves. Gingerly, she wrapped his arm around his.

_He really is muscular_, she thought in the back her mind.

"As ready as I'll ever be," she said softly, trying to focus on something that helped her concentrate. Connor nodded and they began walking towards the front door.

_Oh god!_

"Here we go."


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Shit gets real…? Eh, thanks for those who have reviewed! Hope you enjoy this one!**

* * *

Sarah was no stranger to finery, but not on this scale. A crystal glass chandelier hung from the ceiling and expensive portraits hung on each of the walls. The hardwood flooring shined as if it were brand new, like if it were freshly polished for the first time, and Persian rugs decorated almost every bit of the floor. In a far, secluded corner a small string quartet was playing a merry tune.

People were already dancing and chatting and laughing; sipping on wine and champagne, discussing "mannered" subjects such as politics and business, some of which Sarah understood. The dresses were a blur of colors mixed with the sounds of laughter and clinking glasses.

A person shouted and stamped a staff down onto the ground, signaling that Sarah and Connor had arrived. Connor looked at the man confused as to why he was doing such a bizarre thing, but Sarah convinced him it was a normal thing to happen when she gently patted his arm that was still locked with hers.

"May I take your coats and hats?" a footboy asked holding out his arms. From all the candles, body heat, and the fire roaring in the hearth, the room was perfectly toasty. Sarah handed the footboy her muff and cloak and Connor simply handed the boy his hat. The boy bowed and scurried off to a separate room to hang them.

Sarah, out of sheer nervousness, still clung to Connor's arm. He looked at Sarah, who was looking out into the crowd with a mixture of panic, fear, and nervousness. Connor took Sarah's hand, the one that was clinging to his sleeve, and gently squeezed it reassuringly. Sarah's head snapped towards him and she looked him in the eye. Connor's eyes briefly landed on Sarah's lips and how full they looked from the way she tilted her head back so she could look at him. Connor's eyes quickly went back to her green eyes.

"Everything will be fine," he whispered in her ear. Sarah nodded dumbly.

"I hop you are right," she whispered back. She looked out into the crowd again. "Do you see him?" Sarah looked up at Connor, whose eyes flashed for a brief moment as they scanned the room. She followed his gaze, but was still completely lost. After a minute, Connor finally found the man. He was standing in a far off corner, talking to General/governor Gage.

"There, in the back corner with the trimmed, black beard," Connor said. Sarah immediately found the man talking to Gage. The clothes Nathan Hamilton wore screamed money; he wore a silk cravat with a richly decorated waistcoat and matching coat and trousers, both of which looked expensive and made from silk as well. Hamilton's hazel eyes gleamed with ambition and in the candlelight, his eyes seemed more yellow, almost cat like. In the conventional sense, he was attractive, but someone Sarah would never really pay attention to. Sarah pretended to be interested in something else and spoke to Connor.

"What do you think I should do to get his attention?" Sarah asked. She had no inkling on how to seduce a man other than to show off her breasts, really. Connor looked at Hamilton and thought a moment. Currently, his target's eyes were directed towards a woman who was dancing with her partner nearby. Gage had gone off somewhere else, and Hamilton leaned against the wall, observing the crowd and drinking wine. The man had an air of confidence about him.

Connor thought a moment before asking. A man like that would want a woman to be direct. "Put yourself in his way," he answered. Sarah looked between Connor and Hamilton who still hadn't noticed her yet. Now that they were actually here, Sarah was mortified. The thought of leaving Connor and making herself vulnerable made her shake, but Connor took her hand again.

"You'll be safe, I promise," Connor said. Sarah closed her eyes and tried to calm down. Her heart was palpitating and her legs felt like they would give out. She took a deep breath and slowly opened her eyes. Connor observed her while Sarah looked into the crowd once more. Even though she had calmed down since they arrived, it was still plainly obvious that Sarah was nervous.

_The last thing I want is a repeat of what happened with Elijah in the alley way_, Sarah thought. Still, Connor's presence was a reassurance that she would be safe. The current dance ended and the entire roomed politely applauded, Sarah and Connor included.

"Choose your partners for the Virginia reel!" one of the musicians called out once the applause began to fade. Sarah noticed that Hamilton and asked one of the single women to be his partner. The lady blushed prettily and accepted, taking her arm in his.

"Shall we?" Connor asked motioning to the dance floor with his hand. Sarah looked at Connor bemused. She smiled at him; the fear in her eyes momentarily ebbed away and replaced with amusement.

"I thought you didn't know how to dance Colonial dances?" she laughed softly walking with Connor to where the men and women were lining up. Connor returned the smile.

"I took some dancing lessons." He stood in line with them and Sarah stood in line with the women. Sarah laughed lightly before taking her place in line across from Connor.

"Governor Gage and his wife will lead!" the same musician from earlier called. The man quickly sat down, placed his violin appropriately on his shoulder and soon the band began to play. The men and women walked up towards one another and bowed. Sarah shot Connor an amused smirk before stepping back to with the other women. The same amusement shone in Connor's eyes as he smiled back at Sarah.

Both the rows of men and women began to clap people began to take their partner's arms and spin around in brief circle before going back to their place in line. When Sarah and Connor took hands and side-stepped down the line, Sarah gave Connor a mischievous smirk.

"You're light on your feet," she giggled. Connor smirked and led the two back to their spots in line. Sarah smiled at it all, her fear and apprehension momentarily forgotten. No one really seemed to think or pick up on how Connor seemed to be a Native. Perhaps it was the regality of his captain's uniform, how his hair was tied back and free of any feathers or beads, or how tonight, Connor just seemed to be…regal.

When it was Sarah's turn to spin with a different man, it didn't surprise her much that it was Hamilton. Her apprehension returned immediately when they stepped towards one another and locked arms. Sarah recalled Connor's words: _Put yourself in his way_.

Hamilton's gaze bore onto Sarah, as if taking in her very essence. Sarah shyly looked up at Hamilton through her dark eyelashes. Just as soon as she looked at him, Sarah quickly looked down and returned to her spot in line. From the corner of her eye Sarah noticed that Hamilton kept looking at her, but she purposely ignored his gaze. It wasn't until she and Connor locked arms that she looked at Hamilton in the eye.

"Well done," Connor said encouragingly with a smile. Sarah smiled brightly at him in return, as a way to show her appreciation and to bring more attention to Hamilton so that he would approach her after this dance. The partners did one final bow and the room applauded. Connor walked up towards Sarah and looked approvingly at her.

"It seems you caught his attention," he said lightly placing his hand on Sarah's lower back. It made her blush, but she smiled politely and briefly glanced at Hamilton. His hazel eyes seemed to be clouded with lust while he looked at Sarah. She tried to return an equally deep gaze before looking back at Connor.

"It would appear that way," Sarah replied lightly. She walked towards a man serving wine glasses and eagerly took a glass, dousing the wine in one gulp. The warmth of the alcohol filled Sarah from her stomach and all over. She smiled contently but Connor quickly took the glass from her and gave her an odd look.

"What? I need the encouragement," she said taking another glass before the man with the trey walked off. This time Sarah took her time sipping the wine. Connor rolled his eyes and went back to placing his hand on Sarah's lower back. Sarah felt herself blush even more, and not from the wine.

Part of her thought that Connor was doing it to help lure Hamilton in (the man was still looking at Sarah with bedroom eyes), but another part of her hoped that Connor was doing it for a another reason. Maybe as a reassurance gesture? No, having his hand on her lower back seemed too intimate. While Sarah scrambled around her brain, Hamilton walked over and stood in front of Sarah wearing a confidant grin.

"Miss," he said politely with a bow. Sarah snapped back to reality briefly and looked at Hamilton oddly for a moment. _When did he get there?_ Sarah asked herself. She held out her hand and Hamilton accepted it, taking his time to kiss the back of her hand. Sarah was tempted enough to snatch her hand away from him and splash wine in his face. Throughout all this, Connor still hadn't moved his hand from Sarah's lower back. In fact, he pulled in a little closer (not that Sarah minded).

"Sir," Sarah replied with a curtsy. Hamilton smiled at her like he had a secret. One of the musicians called out to find partners for the Minuet. Hamilton looked at the musician and his eyes lit up. He turned to Connor.

"My I have your lady's arm for this dance?" Connor nodded without saying a word. "Thank you sir." Sarah quickly handed Connor her glass and walked with Hamilton to the dance floor. She looked over her shoulder at Connor.

The assassin just stood there, almost awkwardly, with the empty glass in his hands. He gave Sarah a brief encouraging smile before stepping back into the crowd. Sarah continued to look over her shoulder at Connor, still looking at him. Sarah was so fixated on him that she didn't even notice that Hamilton spoke to her.

She turned to the man, "I'm sorry, sir?"

"I said, you look beautiful tonight," Hamilton repeated. He looked a little upset that Sarah wasn't paying attention to him. To mend his feelings, Sarah flashed him a bright smile.

"I beg your pardon, sir," Sarah began. "But I feel so sorry for my escort as he looks rather…upset and lonely now that I'm dancing with you." Though her exposure to men had been minimal, Sarah knew that men liked having their ego stroked. She only hoped that the compliment she had just given Hamilton did that.

Hamilton looked over his shoulder and smirked when he saw Connor standing with a small group of men. The assassin may or may not have been jealous watching Sarah dance with their target. Their eyes quickly met, but Connor's gaze quickly went back to Sarah. She was playing her part extremely well, despite having no experience beforehand. Seeing her act that way made Connor feel uncomfortable though. He couldn't figure out why, but for a brief moment, Connor pictured himself in Hamilton's shoes while Sarah looked at him with lustful eyes.

"Indeed he does," Hamilton said. The music started and Sarah took light steps required for the Minuet. They danced for a minute in silence. Sarah made it a point to keep looking forward while Hamilton looked her up and down.

"Will you tell me what your name is?" Hamilton asked. Sarah glanced at Hamilton and to feed his ego more, looked him up and down, like she was lusting after him.

"Maybe," she purred when they walked in close. "When you earn it."

For the next dance, Hamilton danced with Sarah again and even though he tried to get to know Sarah more, she kept being aloof. Although she could tell it irritated him, Sarah could tell that it was working. After their second dance, Hamilton pulled her in close, resting his hand on the small of her back.

"You know, I'm a personal guest of the governor himself," Hamilton said in a low, husky voice. His eyes traveled from Sarah's cleavage, to her lips, then to her eyes. She gently touched his chest and traced the pattern on his waistcoat. She looked up at him through her eyelashes again.

"Are you now?" she asked, pretending convincingly that she was interested. Hamilton quickly looked at Connor, who hadn't moved from his spot while he watched the pair dance. His expression was blank, but for some reason, Sarah felt as though he was glowering at Hamilton in a very subtle way.

"Indeed I am," Hamilton answered. He looked back at Sarah who gave him her best "bedroom eyes" look. He seemed completely bewitched by Sarah and her aloofness. Hamilton licked his lips. "Can we speak more, in private?"

Sarah smiled beguilingly, "I see no reason why not." Hamilton looked at Connor, whose contempt for the man seemed to show more. He looked a little nervous, but quickly shook it off.

"Would your husband mind?" Hamilton asked, nodding his head towards Connor. Sarah briefly looked at Connor. The assassin looked at her curiously, silently asking what was going. Sarah gave him a look as if to say, "Wait a moment."

"He is not my husband, nor will he mind," Sarah said in a smoky, alluring voice. She smirked at Hamilton. He seemed completely bewitched as he held out his arm and escorted Sarah up the stairs. Sarah made a subtle nod with her head that signaled Connor to follow them upstairs. Hamilton was so fixated on Sarah. He licked his lips again while he looked at Sarah's lips again.

The second floor was a long hallway that was dimly lit. There was a nearby table with a large pot of flowers in it, adding some color to the rather bland hallway. On the walls were portraits of the governor and his wife and family. Hamilton led Sarah to the second left door and opened the door. He held it open for her and Sarah flashed him another smile.

"Thank you," she said. Hamilton quietly closed the door and without Sarah noticing, locked it. "I don't think this counts as proper, sir." Sarah laughed as she looked around the room. It was large enough to fit five beds easily. On the wall where the door stood was a large mahogany desk with papers stacked in a messy pile. A large bookshelf stood on the left-hand wall where a large window and a window seat were. A large, ornate rug was under the four-post bed and everything shined as if it were brand new.

"This room is beautiful," Sarah said as she walked further into the room. Hamilton took long strides towards her and gripped her arms tightly. Sarah squealed and immediately tensed up, closing her eyes. _Just let him get it over with_, she thought bitterly. Hamilton's lips stopped just above hers. She could feel his hot breath fan her face and his whiskers lightly tickled her lips.

"Can I finally have your name now?" he asked huskily. Sarah slowly opened her eyes. She looked into Hamilton's hazel eyes, swallowing her fear.

"Sarah," she said in a soft voice. Hamilton leaned in even closer, a smirk on his lips. "My name is Sarah." Without saying another word Hamilton crashed his lips onto Sarah's. The feeling was uncomfortable at best. When Sarah imagined her first kiss, she always imagined it being more…sweet or sensual, like in the fairytales she used to read. But before Sarah could think on the awkward kiss any longer, Hamilton began kissing her neck and groping her breasts through the fabric of her dress.

Sarah groaned at how uncomfortable she felt, but Hamilton mistook her groan for something else as his tongue began to lick and bite her collarbones. Sarah craned her neck back and leaned against the bedpost so she wouldn't lose her balance. Hamilton was leaning against her making Sarah feel heavy and even more awkward, and he still held her arms tightly preventing her from moving them much.

"Sarah," he hummed, savoring every syllable. While Hamilton kept his attention on Sarah's neck and collarbones, Sarah noticed the lock being picked. _Connor, please hurry!_ Sarah thought desperately.

"You have such a lovely neck," Hamilton purred. Sarah lightly coughed and thanked him. Finally Hamilton let go of Sarah's arms and pulled her in closer. Sarah, unsure of what to do really, wrapped her arms around Hamilton, something he enjoyed as he laughed in a low tone and went back to kissing Sarah's neck. Sarah kept her eyes on the lock and had to keep herself from cheering when the door opened.

Sarah gave Connor a pleading look and the assassin nodded. He took quick, light steps towards the unaware Hamilton. With a flick of Connor's wrist, a hidden blade came out of sleeve. Hamilton looked up and turned his head at the strange noise.

"What the-?" he asked. Sarah slid out from under him and leaned against the desk. In a swift motion, Connor ran up towards Hamilton and shoved the blade through his chest. Hamilton's eyes widened. Blood started coming out of his mouth and he made a sickly, gurgling sound.

Hamilton fell to the ground staring up at Connor as if he were the spawn of the Devil. Sarah wanted to look away, but couldn't bring herself to do it. She watched with pitying eyes as Hamilton's life ebbed away with every breath he took. Connor knelt beside him, eyeing the smuggler.

"I don't get it," Hamilton said, short of breath. "I thought the Assassins were gone, vanished." Connor said nothing and kept looking at Hamilton. "What did I do? What did I do?!"

"I should not have to explain your crimes for you," Connor said almost spitefully. Hamilton wore a desperate expression and looked between Connor and Sarah.

"Aye, I was a smuggler yes," he began. Hamilton gripped his chest. "Agh! But not for what you think, assassin." Connor stayed quiet and waited for him to continue. Sarah slowly walked towards the pair and stood behind Connor. "I never separated any families. The-the Templars paid me to help them smuggle those out of the city- ngh! To help keep the peace! So that the tension would not get any worse! But now, thanks to you, your naivety, all this will be undone!"

Hamilton's head fell to the ground, lifeless. Blood soaked the carpet, outlining the upper half of Hamilton's body. Connor stood up and spoke something in his native tongue. He looked at Hamilton for a second, confused and unsure.

Sarah couldn't believe what she just saw and she continued to stare at Hamilton's dead body. Were their efforts tonight all for naught? Sarah felt guilt overwhelm her and she rested her hand on her chest, trying to catch her breath.

"We need to get out of here, now." Connor said sharply. Sarah nodded and followed Connor out of the room, down the steps, and past the partygoers.

* * *

In the carriage Connor was silent. He leaned back in his seat and contemplated Hamilton's last words. None of it made sense. Even six months ago, when Connor had assassinated William Johnson, his words confused him also. What were the Templars _truly _planning? Connor looked at Sarah. She had been deathly quiet since they left. She kept staring at her hands, her muff placed by her feet.

"Sarah?" Connor asked softly. She didn't move and continued staring blankly at her hands. Connor leaned towards her and took her hands in his. Her hands were almost as big as his, but then again, she was very tall when compared to most women. Sarah looked up at Connor, guilt written on her face. "It's alright."

Sarah shook her head and tears began to form in the corner of her eyes. "No, no it's not! I just helped kill a man who was innocent! He was only trying to keep peace in Boston and-!" Sarah kept shaking her head and her body began to shake with violent sobs.

Connor sat Sarah beside him and took her face in his hands. "Sarah, calm down. Look at me." Sarah took a few deep breaths and looked at Connor. He wiped a few tears away with his thumb. "It will be alright. I know what you are feeling right now, but trust me when I say to hold onto that. The moment you lose that feeling, you become no better than the Templars."

"But what he said," Sarah began, holding Connor's hands that were still over her face. She shook her head, still a mess of emotions.

"He may have believed that what he was doing was just, but Sarah," she looked up at him. Her green eyes filled with confusion. "That man was uprooting people's lives for sake of convenience. It was still benefitting to the Templars. Trust me Sarah, you did the right thing." She smiled rather pathetically. "I'm proud of you."

"Connor?"

"Yes?"

"Please don't ask me to help you take another person's life. I don't think I could handle it again."

Connor nodded and gave her a sympathetic smile. "I understand."

"Thank you," Sarah replied resting her head on Connor's shoulders. The assassin looked unsure of what to do, but he gently placed his hand on her shoulder. Sarah deeply sighed and relaxed against Connor. He was warm and his shoulder was surprisingly comfortable. Sarah hadn't felt this calm in a long time and she wanted to stay like this for a few more moments. But sadly, the carriage came to a stop.

"We're here sir!" Fredrick said hoping down from his seat. Sarah raised her head and looked deeply at Connor; her green eyes meeting his dark brown ones. Fredrick opened the door and once he saw the position Connor and Sarah were in, quickly coughed and looked away. Sarah smiled despite herself and put her muff on.

It was beginning to snow lightly and Sarah looked at the bits of white dancing around her. Connor followed shortly after. He handed Fredrick a small bag of coins and relieved the driver of his duties for the night. Fredrick bowed and drove the carriage off deeper into the city. Sarah just stood in front of her home. All the windows were dark, indicating that everyone inside was sleeping. Hopefully Abigail was home.

As Sarah continued looking at her home, the more she realized she didn't want to be home. She wanted to get away from them all. To go home and pretend nothing happened after tonight made Sarah squirm and feel odd.

"Are you alright?" Connor asked softly. Sarah turned around and looked at him. No. After tonight, Sarah didn't think she would be "alright" for a while. Sarah gave another pathetic smile.

"I will be," she said softly. Sarah looked down, thinking. "What happens now?"

Connor looked at Sarah impassively. "I don't know. I find more Templars, and…" he trailed off and saw the distant look in Sarah's eyes. Connor took Sarah's hand and held it tightly. "It will be alright, Sarah. I promise you."

Without saying any more words, Sarah threw her arms around Connor and held him tightly. She didn't want him to leave. Connor made her feel safer. Now when she would walk the streets of Boston, all Sarah would be able to think was: "Who is a Templar?" "Which one of you knew Nathan Hamilton?" No longer would Sarah see the people on the street as regular Bostonians, but rather as a secret battlefield.

Connor lightly wrapped his arms around her. She slowly pulled away and rested her hands on his shoulders, looking up at him. Connor's hands rested on her waist and he met her gaze, his gaze deep and thoughtful. A church nearby rang its bell twelve times, indicating that it was midnight, Christmas morning. Sarah softly smiled at Connor.

"It's Christmas now," she said. Connor nodded. "Will you be coming back to Boston any time soon?"

"Time permitting," Connor replied in an easy voice. Sarah nodded and placed her hands at her side. She looked up at Connor and quickly kissed his cheek. The assassin stood there, dumbfounded. The rouge on Sarah's lips had long since faded, but he could still feel a very small trace of it on his cheek.

Sarah walked towards her home and looked over her shoulder, smiling at Connor. "Merry Christmas, Connor."

"Merry Christmas, Sarah."


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: A wedding? I LOVE WEDDINGS! Drinks all around! Thank you to those that reviewed, I hope you love this chapter! I think most of you will hate more for what happens in this chapter though. But don't worry, it's all part of my master plan. ;)**

* * *

**4 June 1775**

"Oh Sarah! I'm so nervous! What if I trip on my dress or I forget what to say?" Susanna bit her lip nervously and paced back and forth in her wedding dress. She fiddled with her bouquet of flowers in her hands while she paced the floor back and forth. Sarah shook her head and stood up from the stool she sat on and placed her hands on Susanna's shoulders. Sarah looked at her twin with a comforting smile.

Despite her nervousness, Susanna was a vision in white. Sarah helped with her sister's hair so that it was pinned back with a few loose curls hanging around Susanna's face and over her shoulders. Abigail found some daisies and placed them in Susanna's hair, making the color more blonde than brown. It even helped bring the green out more in Susanna's eyes.

Her dress was the same one their mother, Frances, wore at her wedding. Margret had found it in one of linen closest wrapped in thin paper in a small-ish box. The dress suited Susanna's figure well. Sarah could practically imagine Will's expression at Susanna walking down the aisle. Though their father had died, Ben jumped at the offer of giving his little sister away.

"I need to see my sister well off before I go off to fight!" Ben laughed, but everyone in the family was nervous for Ben. After Lexington and Concord, Ben was one of the few men to willingly volunteer. He was still training, but Sarah remembered how Ben always dreamed of being a War Hero when he was younger. Now that the opportunity presented itself, Ben was anxious to "lick the Lobsterbacks!" Though everyone was proud of Ben, they constantly worried for his future safety.

"Everything will be perfect, Anna! Just try and relax, okay?" Sarah smiled and rubbed her sister's shoulders. Susanna gave her twin a weak smile and sighed.

"I'm just so nervous that somethin will go awry!"

"I know! But try not to think that, okay? Try and think about the positive! This is your special day!" Sarah beamed at her sister and pinched Susanna's cheeks playfully.

"Hey!" Susanna laughed, flinging Sarah's hands away. Both sisters laughed and sat down together, remembering their carefree childhood days, their father, and what little they remembered of their mother. To Sarah, that seemed like an entire lifetime ago. It was so strange how in the span of five years, her life took a sharp turn.

"Remember when Abby tried drawing Ben, and instead she made Ben look like a cow?" Susanna laughed. Sarah held her sides and tried to catch her breath she was laughing so hard. Both sisters clearly remembered Ben's face. He was twelve at the time and Abigail had just turned four and was passionate about drawing, and she still was.

When Abigail had shown Ben her drawing of him, Ben had tried to giver Abigail his best smile, even though both Sarah and Susanna could tell Ben was horrified. The twins had to leave the room so that they wouldn't laugh in front of Abigail and make her think her drawing was horrid, which it was admittedly, but they wanted to be nice to their baby sister.

While both sisters calmed down their laughter, there was a soft rapping at the window. Sarah and Susanna looked at each other confused.

"What on earth?" Susanna asked turning her head. Her brows furrowed in confusion because at the window was a young man, jumping up and down, waving his arms.

"Miss Sarah Townsend!" he said with a mischievous smile. Susanna looked back at her sister with an amused smirk.

"I think he's asking for you," Susanna laughed. Sarah groaned and walked towards the window. She flung the window open and leaned her head out, giving the young man an annoyed look.

"James, what do you think you're doing?" Sarah practically snapped. Despite her tone, James's smile never faltered. In fact, he seemed quite pleased with himself.

"Why, I saw you by that window and wanted to say hello, Miss Sarah Townsend!' James said with an amused smile. He took off his tricorne hat and gave a deep, almost unnecessarily elaborate bow. Sarah heard Susanna laughing inside from her seat. Sarah gave her twin a sharp look and once Susanna noticed it, she immediately stopped and looked the other way, holding back a fit of giggles.

Sarah turned back to the window and saw that James was beaming at her. He was still standing there, fiddling with his hat. The mid-morning sun made James's black hair shine and his grey-blue eyes sparkled. Sarah shook her head with an amused smirk.

"This really isn't proper. You know that, right James?"

James waved one of his hands in front of him, still smiling. "Can't a young man, about to go off to war, say hello to a beautiful woman?" There was a mischievous glint in his eyes that made Sarah almost outwardly laugh. Almost. Sarah shook her head and began to pull down the window.

"Goodbye, James!" she said in a singsong voice. Even though Sarah sat back down, she could see that James was still standing there, smiling and putting his hat back on. Susanna was, by now, in hysterics while Sarah sat there, holding her face in her hands. She looked out the window and saw that James had finally left. Sarah sighed deeply and reclined on the sofa. Susanna on the other hand was still trying to catch her breath.

"Who was that?" she asked once she finally caught her breath. Sarah turned to her sister and began to laugh herself.

"Ah… An admirer, you could say," Sarah answered between giggles.

* * *

**Four months ago**

The uneasiness Sarah had felt after helping Connor kill Nathan Hamilton was starting to become tolerable. For the past month and a half her nightmares consisted of her watching Hamilton die before her while he begged her to help. In her dream she wanted to, but Sarah was frozen where she stood. She tried to call for help, but had no voice.

Sarah would stand there in her dream, wracked with guilt, as she watched a helpless man die. As much as Sarah wanted to believe in Connor and his cause, she still had doubts and reservations. Who was the right in all this? Hamilton's words kept ringing in Sarah's head: _I did it all for peace_. But that's what Connor was fighting for too, wasn't it? Speaking of the assassin, she hadn't seen him since that night. No doubt Connor was busy doing assassin…type…stuff, of some kind. Still, Sarah did miss him a little.

And the kiss… Sarah tried not to think about it too much. Looking back, Sarah wasn't sure why she did it, but in the moment it felt right. Perhaps she was just swept up in the moment from the trauma of killing a man and Connor comforting her. At least that's what Sarah told herself to get through the day.

After having the nightmare though, Sarah would wake up in a cold sweat and have trouble falling back asleep. She was quiet and withdrawn during that Christmas. Even Mrs. Howard, the woman Sarah was fulfilling her apprenticeship under began to get concerned. Susanna and Ben tried their best to break through to Sarah, but nothing seemed to work. They thought about taking Sarah to see a doctor, but deemed it was too expensive.

Eventually though, by the time February came around, Sarah was starting to become like her old self, much to the relief of her family. She was in hurry to return back to Mrs. Howard's shop after running errand for Mrs. Howard. The only reason Sarah was in a hurry was because she was freezing and wanted to get back to the warm, dry tailor shop. Sarah picked up her skirts and practically ran towards the shop.

"Cold, cold, cold, coooold!" Sarah chanted, seeing her breath fog up in front of her. A cold shiver went up Sarah's spine and she slowed down her running to a light jog. When running, Sarah has a tendency to look down at the ground instead of straightforward, something that never really got Sarah into much trouble until recently.

Without even seeing the group of men in front of her, Sarah crashed into one of them. Both Sarah and the man she bumped into yelled out and she felt his arms wrap around her as he turned his body so that Sarah would land on top of him instead of the other way around.

"Ohhh, ooowww," Sarah began slowly getting up. She shook her head and looked at them man she had ran into. He was looking at her, completely transfixed. He had dark, thick hair that reminded Sarah briefly of Connor. His eyes were a pale blue color, almost grey and his skin was pale with a healthy glow to it. His facial structure had its masculine features, prominently in his jaw and nose, but his eyes were softer looking, almost feminine.

The more Sarah looked at him, the more she found herself blushing. Quickly she stood up and offered her hand to help him stand up. He gestured that he was alight and stood up on his own. His friends were laughing and making odd jokes that made Sarah feel uncomfortable. She found herself blushing more and cursing for her lack inexperience with the opposite sex.

The man was brushing his coat off, looking at Sarah who was fiddling with the skirts of her dress. "Are you alright, ma'am?" he asked. Even his voice was well mannered and soft! Sarah found herself blushing even more.

"I am, yes. My apologies for running into you, sir." Sarah gave a brief curtsy and began walking the other way as fast as she could without running. One of the man's friends laughed.

"It seems you make all the pretty girls run, James!" the man laughed.

Back at the shop, Sarah curled up by the fire to get warm. Mrs. Howard was away for the moment, so Sarah enjoyed the small moment she had to herself to get warm. Once she could move her limbs without feeling stiff, Sarah hung up her cloak and began to rearrange the fabrics by color and spruce up the mannequins' clothes.

The bell by the door rang, indicating the store had a customer. Sarah had her back towards the door so she didn't see who had walked in. Balancing a roll of silk in her arms, Sarah turned around with a bright smile.

"Hello! Welcome to," she cut off when she realized that the person who walked in was the young man she had run into on her way back. Sarah blushed a little and coughed. "You again."

The man sheepishly nodded his head and held his hat in his hands. "I wanted to, ah… Well, I just wanted to…" he kept fuddling over his words and looking nervously at Sarah. She quirked a brow at this man's odd behavior.

"You just wanted to what?" Sarah asked, setting down the roll of silk on the appropriate shelf. The young man blushed and opened his mouth to speak, but closed it instantly. Sarah crossed her arms and looked at the man, expecting an answer.

After a moment, the man finally found his words. "I apologize for the behavior of my friends, Miss." He said it a little fast, like he was nervous. Sarah's face relaxed and she slowly uncrossed her arms.

"Oh," she began. "Uh, think nothing of it." Sarah made to walk behind the counter, but the man took a step forward that made Sarah stop in her tracks. Suddenly, fear shot through her. Connor did say, after telling her everything about the Assassins and Templars, that she was bound to be more susceptible to being captured or thrusted even further into the conflict. Was this man one of the Templars? Sarah looked over her shoulder, giving the man an odd look, trying to hide her fear. He saw this and took an immediate step back.

"Sorry," he said quietly. "I was hoping, that well, I could know your name?" Sarah turned around and crossed her arms again.

"Why?" she asked, not hiding her suspicion. The man – didn't one of his friends say his name? What was it? James? – looked amused and laughed softly. He smiled and placed his hands behind his back. Sarah noticed this and felt her guard go up.

"Well, usually, when a person walks into someone else, they usually introduce themselves." James said in an easy, but amused voice. Sarah raised a brow, not saying anything. "I guess, to relieve the tension, I'll go first!" he held out his hand, "James Baker."

Sarah looked between James's hand and his face, which began to look confused, but he still never lost his amused look. He retracted his hand a bit and gave a brief laugh. What would happen if Sarah gave 'James' her name? Her full name at that? Perhaps it was paranoia, but for some reason, Sarah was not so willing on being cordial at the moment.

"Uh," James leaned a little towards Sarah, "normally when someone introduces, the other introduces themselves after." Sarah continued to give James an odd look before, reluctantly, shaking James's hand.

"Sarah," she said briskly. "Though it's been a pleasure James, I have much work to do, so if you'll please leave me to my work?" James gave another amused laugh before giving an unnecessary elaborate bow, putting his hat back on, and giving Sarah one more look.

"A pleasure, Sarah. I look forward to bumping into you again in the future," he said with a wink and walked out the door. Sarah felt her blush return a little when James winked at her, but it quickly disappeared.

After that day, James would come in almost every afternoon, just to try and talk to Sarah. Mrs. Howard found it rather annoying at first ("If he's not going to buy anything, he should leave!"), but at the weeks rolled on, and Mrs. Howard saw how James would interact with Sarah, she soon found the whole affair delightful ("So cute how he follows you around like a little boy in love!"), much to the ire of Sarah. Sarah was never eager to talk and after nearly a month, James finally said something about it.

"You know, I've been thinking," he said following Sarah across the store, "you don't seem to like me very much."

"Really? Whatever gave you that idea?" Sarah said with light sarcasm in her voice. Despite how she would give short remarks and rebuff James's playfulness, he never seemed to mind. On the contrary, he found the whole thing amusing.

"I like a challenge," James joked one time with a wink. While Elijah acted in a very similar way towards Sarah, there was something more innocent behind James's motives. Sarah wasn't quite sure what it was, but for some reason, James was starting to get under skin a little. She was starting to enjoy his company, but he still annoyed her some. The more he talked though, the more Sarah relaxed her thoughts that James could possibly be a Templar

"Well, for starters, you never very talkative with me, Sarah," James began. "I'm a little hurt …" he pouted, sticking out his lower lip. Sarah looked at him and couldn't help but laugh and she shook her head while she placed the appropriate rolls of fabric on the shelves. Mrs. Howard left early for the day and left Sarah in charge of the store. The latter intentionally thought that Howard was doing this on purpose to let Sarah and James have some privacy. Sarah inwardly groaned, but didn't say anything.

"Ah! Is that a smile I see, Miss Sarah?" James joked standing beside her, smiling down at her. Sarah smirked at James before walking behind the counter.

"Possibly, maybe," Sarah said with light amusement in her voice.

"Possibly? Maybe?" James said with a smirk. "I'll take that as a challenge."

* * *

"I like him Sarah," Susanna said, referring to James after the whole oddity had passed. "He seems like a charming fellow."

"I suppose he is," Sarah said softly. She stood behind Susanna and helped put on her sister's veil. She danced the fabric around, making sure that it was even and nothing was over-layered.

"What about Connor though?" Susanna asked suddenly, making Sarah freeze. Susanna was fiddling with her flowers and looked at Sarah, who was deep in thought.

"Well, I haven't seen Connor since Governor Gage's ball," Sarah began. "So, I don't know what he would think, or even say for that matter." Susanna huffed and gave her sister a hard look. "What?"

"He takes you to one of the most formal occasions in Boston and you don't even see him for six months? It's so… ungentlemen like!" Sarah laughed.

"It's just who Connor is," Sarah said with a defeated tone. Susanna gave her sister a pitying look. Sarah squeezed her sister's shoulder, letting her know that it was okay. They walked towards the main entrance to the church where Ben stood, looking proud in his army uniform. Once Ben saw Susanna, he smiled warmly and offered her his arm.

"You ready, sis?" he asked brightly. Susanna, blushing from the excitement of marriage, nodded her head and linked arms with Ben. Sarah gave her sister a quick encouraging hug before walking towards her family and sitting next to her Great Aunt Katherine. She was their mother's aunt and still had her Irish accent. Despite Katherine's grey hair, she had more life in her than half the room combined. Even though her doctors advised Katherine traveling from Virginia to Boston, Katherine still packed her carriage and made the long trek from Williamsburg to Boston.

"How does she look?" Katherine beamed.

"She beautiful, Aunt Kat," Sarah replied with a bright smile.

Shortly after the church doors opened and everyone stood up, smiling as they watched Susanna walk down the aisle smiling and looking so happy she could cry tears of happiness. Ben never looked more proud as he walked with his sister. Will stood by the alter, also wearing an army uniform. Just like Susanna, he too seemed to be on the brink of tears from pure joy.

Once Ben had led Susanna to the alter, he kissed her forehead and stepped back and sat next to Ben and their Aunt Kat. Everyone sat down and the priest began the sermon. During the entire ceremony, Susanna and Will never tore their eyes or hands from one another. George looked so proud, as did Mrs. Pickard who was dabbing her face with a small handkerchief.

"To think that could have been you," Ben whispered to Sarah. She rolled her eyes and softly laughed with her brother. While the ceremony continued, Sarah couldn't help but feel as though someone was looking at her. Without moving her head, Sarah looked in her peripherals to see if she could catch whoever was looking at her.

Eventually, down in the pew in front of Sarah, she caught a young man looking at her deeply. Not necessarily in a lecherous way, but in a way that he was observing her; committing her face to his memory. He sat beside Abigail and had one arm wrapped around her. Sarah thought about the man Abigail had supposedly "cut ties" with, and wondered if this was the man her youngest sibling was talking about.

"You may now kiss your bride," the priest said. Without a moment's hesitation, Susanna wrapped her arms around Will and kissed him deeply. Will encircled his arms around Susanna's waist and pulled her in closer. Everyone stood up and cheered. Aunt Kat was smiling and dabbing her eyes because she was so happy. Sarah hollered with cheer at her sister's happiness. But as the crowd applauded the happiness of these two young lovers, Sarah noticed the man with Abigail was looking at her again.

Their eyes briefly met and he turned away when Abigail caught his attention. He leaned down and kissed her. When they pulled apart he smiled down at her, but there was something behind that smile. Something…malicious.

* * *

The tavern was alive with the sound of music, laughter, and stomping feet. One of Sarah's uncles was playing a lively tune on his fiddle while Susanna and Will danced and spun around, completely lost in their own world. Ben was chatting with George Pickard and his wife while Aunt Kat was getting drunk off and telling tales in a loud booming voice. The drunker Aunt Kat became, the more her Irish accent slurred, which caused everyone to laugh despite what the woman could be saying.

"An' then me brother tossed our father into the," she had to pause Aunt Kat was laughing so hard, making everyone else around her laugh. Margret was with their great aunt, laughing and drinking her fill of wine and eating heartily.

Sarah was at a small table with her cousin Tom who came with their Aunt Kat. They were both helping themselves to a tall glass of ale, laughing at the antics they remembered of their great aunt.

"Ah, it's so good to see you, Tom," Sarah said after a fit of laughter. They both laughed again for a brief moment before taking another sip of ale.

"Sarah!" Abigail called walking towards her and Tom's table, dragging the man who had been staring at Sarah during the ceremony. "Sarah, there's someone I want you to meet!" Abigail said once the pair stood in front of the table. Tom gave Sarah a confused look, but she shrugged her arms.

"Oh?" Sarah asked taking a large sip of ale as encouragement.

Abigail nodded vigorously. "Yes! Sarah, this is Thomas Hickey. Thomas, this is my sister, Sarah." The way Abigail looked at Thomas gave Sarah the idea that her sister was completely head over heels in love with him. This was the same man who was embarrassing Abigail not that long ago!

_What the hell, Abby?_ Sarah thought.

Thomas Hickey gave a small bow, "Charmed." He said. Thomas spoke with a thick Cockney accent and the way he spoke seemed almost slimy to Sarah. But, trying to be courteous for Susanna's sake, she offered Abigail and Thomas a seat at the table.

"Thank you, ma'um," Thomas said. Both he and Sarah engaged in a stare down while she continued to nonchalantly sip her ale. Abigail was talking to Tom, completely unaware of the invisible showdown between Thomas and Sarah.

"What my sister sees in you, I will never know," Sarah said in a low, sharp voice. Thomas seemed like the chronic womanizing type. Thomas gave a breathy laugh.

"To be quite 'onest, neiver do I. Still," he said taking Sarah's glass of ale and taking a sip, "I don think that really ma'ers."

Sarah eyes Thomas suspiciously from across the table, who just continued to look at Sarah with dark amusement. There was something about Thomas that just seemed…wrong. Although she couldn't pinpoint what made her feel this way, there was one word that kept coming up in Sarah's mind the more she observed Thomas Hickey: dangerous.

_Just who are you, exactly, Thomas Hickey?_


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: That was the least exciting apocalypse ever, don't you think? **

**I should confess that this chapter was difficult to write. Don't know why seeing as how I've been able to write the other chapters with ease. I have the story plotted out and everything, so me having trouble with this chapter is just weird. Eh!**

**In any case, it's finally winter break, which means I can work on this story more. Which makes me happy. I would have had this chapter out sooner, but with last minute Christmas shopping, celebrating the holidays, and spending time with my mom and dad since they're not together, things just got a little crazy. **

**But now that the madness is over, I can focus on this story. Hope you like this chapter! Have a happy New Year everybody!**

* * *

**April 1775 – Siege of Boston begins**

They said they blocked off the city to cut off aid to British troops. They said that it would be all for the best in the end. After the battles of Lexington and Concord, the ragtag army of men who fought closed off the city of Boston, effectively ending most businesses, including Mrs. Howard's. She had been falsely accused of supplying British troops with cloth for bandages and coats for the winter. And it certainly didn't help that the British greatly restricted movement in and out of the city and controlled the Harbor still.

Sarah remembered walking in the shop one day, finding Mrs. Howard crumpled on the floor, sobbing and cursing. "Bastards," she heaved blowing her nose. "Damn them all!"

Sarah sat beside Mrs. Howard on the floor, confused and afraid. Ben was going off to train and join the cause within the next few weeks, which means Sarah, would have to be the sole breadwinner. Abigail was too absent to find work and Margret… Well, she was still the Margret who was too fond of the bottle. Although Sarah's soon to be sister's father-in-law offered to help out, Sarah politely declined the offer. Perhaps it was Sarah not wanting a man's help and prove her worth on her own, or maybe it was pride that made Sarah decline George's offer.

Regardless, Sarah faced the problem head on, hoping for the best, even though she hadn't put much thought into what she was going to do. Mrs. Howard's shop closing effectively ended Sarah's contributing income to the household. Ben no longer worked after signing up for the Army, and that left Sarah to provide for Abigail and Margret, seeing as how Susanna would be living with Will's family after the wedding.

With seemingly unending bitterness, Sarah helped Mrs. Howard sell the last bit of her merchandise and the woman was kind enough to give Sarah a portion of her earnings that would last her family for about a month and a half. It left Sarah very little time to find work in a city where there was little opportunity to find such a thing.

Just when Sarah thought things were starting to go her way, thing fell apart all over again. It frustrated her to no end and she tried her best to hide her ire since Susanna was going to be married and she didn't want to dampen her sister's feelings. But it was hard some days.

While Susanna hummed and spun around the house in her almost newly wedded bliss, Sarah imagined slapping her sister and shouting, "It's a goddamn war and our brother may die because of this! Does that mean nothing to you?!" At least Abigail was home more often now that the wedding was getting closer.

But Sarah needed some small measure of happiness to distract herself from her anger and frustration and she knew it. To keep her family from worrying, Sarah made it a point to hide that she lost her place at Mrs. Howard's shop. She didn't want to dampen their moods as well when they all needed a distraction from the madness that was brewing around them.

During the day, her family was under the assumption that she was heading to the shop, when in actuality; Sarah was wandering the streets of Boston, keeping an open ear for any work that could be found. For a week, Sarah had no luck. It wasn't until she was walking home after trying, unsuccessfully, to find some kind of income. There was a small group of men huddled together, talking in low voices. Sarah was just close enough to overhear their conversation without being recognized.

"I'm telling you, it's a guaranteed operation!" the shortest one said in earnest. The others looked at him with skepticism and shared unconvinced looks.

"I dunno Harry," one of the older ones said, crossing his arms. "I have a wife and six children to think about. What if we're caught?"

"We won't!" Harry said. "My friend, Kit, you remember Kit? I think you've met 'im! Anyway, Kit's been doing this for years. Ever since all those taxes were imposed, he's been smuggling goods with high taxes into the city and selling them underground. If Kit's sure we can do this too, then I'm sure too. Give it a chance, boys."

The men all looked at Harry, wanting to believe him. Sarah felt her heart thumping wildly in her chest. Smuggling as a profession? It was too dangerous, just even in name. But smugglers supposedly made a pretty penny…

"How much?" one of the more tuff looking men asked, his voice was thick with an Irish accent. Harry's face brightened and he beamed at the man.

"Enough to help Abe's wife and children three times over," Harry answered, his voice proud. Several of the men grunted and talked in low voices. By the general tone, most of them sounded convinced. But not Abe.

"And what'll if we're caught?" he asked leaning down in Harry's face. The young, short man seemed undeterred.

"Kit has powerful friends who will cover for us. _Very_ powerful." Abe looked at Harry for a few more minutes before finally shaking his hand. Harry beamed and shook the other men's hands as well. "You won't regret this boys, honest!"

"Where do we meet?" the Irishman asked.

"The South Pier, tomorrow night at nine." All the men nodded and said they would be there

Sarah stood there for a few more minutes to process the information. Smuggling was always a dangerous occupation. But the results always paid off if the good went to the right person. But was it really worth it? Sarah wondered what would happen if she were caught. What would happen to her family? There was no doubt they would possibly hang her for smuggling, but the last thing Sarah wanted was to put her family in danger.

Though, Sarah couldn't recall any family of a smuggler that was punished severely. If anything, they would just be shamed publicly. Yet her family never really cared for reputation. If it became too much of a problem, they could leave Boston and start anew in a different city or live in the countryside, but Sarah could make it so that her family wouldn't be punished for her actions. Still… there was that large factor of "what if?"

But to make sure that there would be money for them? To have food in their mouths? Was smuggling even _more _worth it then? The one thing Sarah desperately wanted was to provide for her family. The more she thought about, how she would be able to make sure that her family was provided for, the more Sarah was convincing herself.

She needed to borrow Ben's clothes.

* * *

Sarah was able to sneak out of the house with ease. Ben's clothes were a little big on Sarah, and it was a little hard to hide her rather noticeable gender markers, but using an old shirt from Ben's closet, she binded her chest till it was flat enough that her breasts weren't noticeable through the shirt and waistcoat. The clothes were baggy on Sarah, but it was enough. She could always tailor them later.

The streets were heavily patrolled by British troops now since Lexington and Concord. Because the city was so heavily guarded, Sarah mostly took alleyways and side streets, peeping around corners to make sure that the coast was clear before making her way down to the South Pier. Because Sarah was taking a detour, it took her a little longer to reach her destination, but she was able to make it with minutes to spare. Luckily no one seemed to notice her arrival.

Sarah dipped the three-corner hat down her face, crossed her arms and leaned against a pile of crates next to an older looking gent. Almost immediately she felt uncomfortable, despite the breezy, free movements of Ben's clothes. Most of the men were older, around their 30s or early 40s. The man next to Sarah gave her an odd look, but she kept looking down at her feet. The man turned slightly and faced Sarah.

"Young man like you shouldn't be here," he said in a deep, gruff voice that reminded Sarah of a seasoned sailor.

"I have two younger sisters to look after, sir," Sarah replied in her best manly voice. "I can't find work, so here I am."

"Oh yeah?" the man asked taking out a pipe and some tobacco. He placed the pipe in a mouth and lit the pipe. "What can you do?"

"I'm good with calculations and numbers."

The man snorted. "Don't think that'll help much here, boy." He took a puff and blew out the smoke through his nostrils, sighing deeply. Sarah looked at the man for a quick moment.

"Why you here?"

"Hn," the man laughed. "That needn't concern you, boy." The conversation effectively ended right there and the rest of the group stood there, speaking in soft voices. The boy Sarah remembered as Harry, ran towards them, with a tall man walking calmly behind him.

The man was lean and just from the way he walked the man seemed menacing. He face looked as though he commanded respect and didn't tolerate anything less than that. Even though he wore simple clothing, he seemed nothing less than regal the way he walked and carried himself.

Abe looked to Harry, "That Kit?"

"Yeah," Harry replied. "Try to stay on his good side."

The crowd silenced and looked at Kit expectantly, waiting for something. A speech, orders, anything. Kit looked over the crowd with this sharp look in his eyes. Sarah felt her throat dry up and she began to chew the inside of her cheek. She took small steps back into the crowd so Kit's eagle-like eyes wouldn't land on her. Sarah had a feeling that if he so much as glanced at her, he would know her true gender. Kit's face immediately softened.

"Evening gents," he said in a pleasant voice and wearing an easy smile. He began to pace along the front of the crowd "I'm glad you all found the location easily. Now onto business then! You will be helping me smuggling goods here, into the city, from all over the coast of the colonies. I hope you all have your sea legs because this will include some traveling."

Sarah had never been on a ship before. She raised her head up and listened more closely to what Kit was saying.

"The goods will range from simple goods, but mainly we'll deal with food… and firearms." Several men whispered in low voices and looked at each other uneasily. Even Sarah shifted uncomfortably in her shoes. The man standing next to Sarah seemed unfazed and continued smoking his pipe.

"I had a feeling most of you would feel that way," Kit said with a small smile on his face. "Nevertheless, we have to make sure that we Bostonians are well-armed for what's to come. The world is looking to us at this dire hour and we must act if we want the Crown to hear us! Will be the unsung heroes of this time!"

"Hear, hear!" one of the men called out. Kit smirked at that.

"This will be dangerous work, gents," Kit started again. "No doubt we will see our fair share of fighting. The Harbor is still closed and our own fighting men block the city from the other side. Boston is completely and utterly alone. That is why I ask your help for this task. We need to help ourselves. We need to help our city!"

Sarah had to give the man credit. He was an excellent public speaker. Several of the men cheered and the rest raised up their arms. Sarah felt their excitement rub off on her and she softly clapped her hands. The man with the pipe disappeared. Sarah looked around her to see where he might have gone, but nothing. He was like a ghost, vanishing without trace or notice.

Sarah turned her attention back to Kit, who looked upon the crowd with eager and proud eyes. He seemed experience in this profession and knew what he was doing. It made Sarah want to trust him and put faith in him that kit would keep them safe while they provided for their families. Perhaps, she could actually do this job…

* * *

**4 June 1775**

The party was still in full swing and many more family members had gotten drunker. Sarah was still sober enough to keep her guard on Hickey as he clung to Abigail. His words were cryptic when they spoke. He claimed that "they" knew who she was and "wot it was" she did. To Sarah, it felt like snakes had traveled down her spine and made chills go up and down her body.

Who was "they?" And what exactly did they know? That she was a smuggler? If that were the case, would they report her to the authorities? Sarah could already feel the burn of the rope when she thought of that and she swallowed her ale uneasily.

From across the room, Sarah still kept her eyes locked on Hickey. For a brief moment, they caught eyes and he gave her a curt nod. Her eyes darkened and Hickey smirked confidently before going back to kissing and sucking Abigail's neck. Sarah turned around in her seat and caught a quick glance out the window. There was a beautiful sunset over the far hills and Sarah sighed. She needed to get to the South Pier soon.

How did her life get into such a mess? Rubbing her eyes, she set her cup down and walked out the backdoor of the tavern. There was so much frivolity going on that no one really seemed to notice Sarah leaving. She rushed to the house, changed quickly, and walked out the door. During her walk, Sarah thought more and more about Hickey's words. They were just so odd and sounded all knowing.

It all confused Sarah and she rubbed her face more.

"Goddammit," she cursed under breath. The situation between Hickey and Abigail and their conversation had her head turned upside down that it made her head spin. And the ale certainly didn't help at all.

A small din of voices caught Sarah's ear and the familiar group of men caught her attention. During the past month she worked with Kit, Sarah made the acquaintance of a few men. There was Abraham, the man who had six children that she saw when she first overheard their conversation about Kit; then there was Robert who everyone referred to as Robin. He worked as a sailor by trade, but with the Harbor closed, Robin had difficulty finding other work that suited him.

"I always feel be'er on the sea!" he would always say. Sarah also befriended the Irishman that was friends with Abe was named Patrick, and an old man named Andrew who did a variety of jobs during his life. With all those men, Sarah felt as though she had a rag-tag group of friends. It made the job feel much less intimidating than what it really seemed to be.

Sarah had spoken to Harry, the man who convinced Abe and his friends to join, a few times. But whenever they did speak, he seemed timid and on edge. Sarah wondered if it had something to do with Kit, but she could never really say for sure. Kit often watched over the operation most nights with a watchful eye. While he was calm most days, Kit was very easy to displease.

Sarah had seen this first hand when Robin showed up late by a few minutes. Kit pulled him aside and almost immediately the tension grew. The group could hear Kit yelling at Robin for "disrupting my order" and "ruining the entire operation." The group stopped whatever they were doing and overheard Kit's verbal abuse at Robin. Once he stopped yelling, everyone quickly went back to work so that they wouldn't be yelled at for being idle.

At the pier, Robin was the first to greet Sarah. He held up his hand and Sarah nodded her head in response. It was starting to get dark by the time Sarah made it to the pier.

"How goes it, Ed?" Robin asked. Sarah had taken her father's name, just a different last name in case anyone was able to make a connection. When her father was alive, he was pretty well known, not too mention well liked.

"Things are going well, Robin! My sister was married today."

"Ah, congratulations! No wonder you stink of tits and booze!" Robin laughed and Sarah playfully shoved Robin in his side. During the whole time Sarah worked here, no one ever picked up on Sarah's true gender. When asked why her face was so clean-shaven, Sarah replied that she was still too young to grow a full beard. And it also covered why her voice cracked sometimes.

"What have we got today, then?" Sarah asked looking at the small frigate docked in front of them.

"The usual," Robin began walking on the plank and onto the deck. "Blankets, food, and gunpowder. Nothing too out of the ordinary really." Sarah nodded and took out a notebook and pencil from her pocket and began taking inventory. While Robin and Sarah began to work, Abe, Patrick, and Andrew showed up and started unloading cargo onto the small, closed off dock.

They sorted the merchandise by cost value and Sarah kept record of it all. Kit had put Sarah in charge of record keeping when she told the man her former business experience.

"Mr. Hale!" Kit called pulling down his coat sleeve. Sarah looked over to Robin, Abe, Patrick, and Andrew as if they may have the answer. She hadn't done anything wrong really. Her friends merely shrugged their shoulders and continued their work. Taking a deep breath, Sarah trotted over to Kit and dipped her hat.

"Yes sir?" she asked in her man voice.

"Do you have those transaction papers for me?" Kit asked. Sarah nodded and pulled them out from her notebook and handed them to Kit. He seemed extremely satisfied and smiled. "Excellent. I'm glad to have you on this operation, Edward," Kit began placing a hand on Sarah's shoulder. "We need someone who's good with numbers, like you!"

"Thank you, sir!" Sarah replied. She smiled to herself. It was nice having someone outside the family compliment on something you're good at. After sorting all the merchandise, the stronger men helped load them into carts and deliver them throughout the city. Sarah looked over the numbers one last time to make sure everything added up. Giving the men the okay, the drove off and Sarah gave Kit the recent numbers.

"Excellent," he said, his lips curling into a smile. "Wonderful. I can't thank you enough, Hale."

Sarah shrugged and gave the man a small smile. "It's no problem, sir." Kit looked at Sarah in an appreciative way. He slapped his hand on her shoulder that briefly reminded Sarah the way her father would do the same thing to Ben.

"I heard your sister was married today from Robert! Congratulations!"

"Thank you sir!" Sarah and Kit shook hands.

"You know something, Hale? I like you, and I like the work you've been doing here. I have a request for you."

"What is it, sir?"

"I would like you to come with me the next time I send my frigate out, to South Carolina!" Sarah looked at the man, mouth agape. Kit laughed and slapped Sarah's back again.

"Why me, sir?"

"Please, call me Kit!" Kit said once he caught his breath. "I want you to come with me because I'm meeting with a new business partner and I want to make sure I get the best out of this deal. Since you're good with numbers, I know that if you come along with me, we'll get an excellent business deal out of it. You've negotiated before, right?" Sarah nodded.

"Wonderful! We leave in a month's time! If you're in, I need your answer no later than next week. Understood?" Sarah nodded again. Kit laughed like he had a secret and patted Sarah's back again. "Good man! Here's your pay."

Kit stuffed a pouch in Sarah's hand that chimed with coins. Sarah looked at the pouch wide-eyed and quickly opened it. Just from eyeing it, there were enough shillings to pay for food for almost three months. Sarah bit her lip and quickly ran off, eager that this new venture was actually working out.

South Carolina sounded interesting. Perhaps if she played her cards right, she could get a bigger percentage from that deal. Sarah had to resist the urge to skip as she made her way back home. Quietly, she slipped in through the backdoor and sat by the dwindling kitchen fire. One by one, Sarah silently counted the number of coins in the pouch. There were four hundred shillings, which meant Sarah made 20 pounds.

Although it was small compared to what Sarah made when she and Ben ran the shop, it was a brilliant start. Sarah put all the coins back into the pouch and hit the money underneath a loose board in one of the kitchen drawers. She would find a different spot for the money later.

Sarah grabbed a loaf of bread and cut herself a slice and sat down in one of the chairs. Resting her feet on the table, Sarah sighed and continued eating while getting another slice. Susanna was at Will's house tonight and Ben was probably called back to camp, which meant Margret was the only one here since Abigail probably ran off with Hickey.

Thinking of that briefly reminded Sarah of his cryptic words towards her. What Abigail saw in that man, she would never know. Sarah huffed and went to clean up when a piece of parchment caught her eye. Gently, she picked up the piece of paper and unfolded it. Sarah recognized Abigail's handwriting and started to get worried.

_My dear, and loving family,_

_It pains me to separate from you all from all that we have been through, but I must follow the desires of my heart. I do not expect you all to understand; yet I beg you to try. I love Thomas. I love him dearly and have decided to runaway with him. Seeing the happiness Susanna and Will had today made me want that for Thomas and I. _

_I am going to marry him. I apologize now for any heartache I have brought._

_Your loving sister and daughter,_

_Abigail_

Sarah stared at the letter, her hands shaking. Hurt turned to anger, and anger turned into rage. Sarah crumpled up the letter in her hands. It felt like she was out of her body, watching herself flip over the kitchen table and throwing foot all over the room.

She was gone. Her baby sister, little baby Abigail, was gone. And it hurt just as much when her father passed.

"Damn you, Hickey," Sarah sobbed, kneeling in the middle of the kitchen. "Damn you to hell."


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: ****capnrattie, I wanted to thank you again for your gracious message. That really brought a smile to my face, as do all your other reviews. I'm glad you all love this story so much and I hope you all continue to read it up until the very end. I appreciate and adore every single one of you. Thank you.**

* * *

Margret stamped down the stairs in a hungover stupor. The sound of yelling and crashing objects awoke her and caused her headache to become worse. At first Margret thought it might have been Abigail being upset over a break-up with that vulgar drunkard she brought to the wedding, but Margret was shocked to see Sarah on her knees, her face in her hands, and sobbing/screaming violently.

The table was thrown on its side and food was plastered all over the walls and windows, leaving no spot in the room untouched. When Margret had opened the kitchen door, Sarah looked up at her stepmother in such a pathetic way that it hurt Margret's heart.

Seeing Sarah, who was always so strong and so brave for her family, seeing her looking so broken sparked something within Margret. She slowly walked up to Sarah and kneeled beside her, ignoring that she was getting squashed up tomato on her night dress.

"Sarah?" Margret asked gently, placing a hand on her back. "Sarah dear, what happened?" At hearing that, Sarah lower lip started trembling and her face contorted. With a loud, almost blood-curling scream, Sarah started wailing again. Margret ignored the pounding in her head and pulled Sarah in tightly into a warm embrace.

"I-it's Ab-aaabyyyy!" Sarah wailed, letting out another scream. Margret soon started fearing the worst and instinctively held onto Sarah tighter. "S-s-she ranaway-heh-heh!"

Margret held onto Sarah as if she were a newborn babe and rubbed circles on her back. "My sister is gone," Sarah cried. "Why did she have to go? Why?" Sarah pulled Margret away and started trashing the kitchen even more chanting, "Why? Why? Why? WHY? **WHY?!** _WHY?!_ _**WHY?!**_" again and again till she was screaming and sobbing.

Margret still sat on her knees, looking at the ground, unsure of what to say or do. As far as she was concerned, it would be for the best if she let Sarah get all the rage and hurt out of her system. Perhaps, after all the years of hardship, Sarah had started to crack.

Sarah fell back onto the floor, panting and hiccupping. "He'd better pray I don't find him…" Sarah said in a dark voice that sent chills up Margret's spine. She scooted closer to her stepdaughter.

"What are you talking about, child?" Margret asked in a careful voice.

"That man, the one Abigail was with at the wedding? She ran off with him. I know who he is, and I know what he looks like," Sarah began, her voice becoming more and more malicious with every syllable. "When I find him, and I _will_ find him, I will end him. And I will feed his body to the dogs, set fire to everything he loves. **I. WILL. FIND. HIM!**"

Margret gently placed her hands on Sarah's shoulders and tried to reason with her stepdaughter. Sarah's body was shaking she was that angry. Seeing Sarah like this brought fear into Margret's heart. "Sarah," she began softly. Ferocious green eyes met with fearful brown ones and Margret felt herself begin to cry. This was so different than when Edward died.

Margret wondered if it was because Abigail left on her own freewill whereas Edward was slowly dying from the inside. By Abigail leaving, it showed to Sarah that her younger sister didn't care; that she was willing to leave everything all for the sake of love. How stupid and naïve Abigail was to Sarah now.

"Try and be reasonable now dear," Margret said wiping Sarah's face with her night dress sleeve and letting her tears flow freely down her face. "I know that I cannot even begin to understand what you're feeling right now, or going through. I know that you must feel so betrayed with Abigail leaving, but trust me when I say: you don't know what you're talking about.

"You're letting your anger speak for you Sarah. You are above all that. If this is what Abigail wants to do, then fine. So be it. There is nothing you can do that can change that."

"I can bring her home," Sarah began in a weak voice. Her throat felt raw from all her crying and screaming. "I can force her to come back!"

Margret shook her head and felt more tears fall down her face. "And what good would that do, Sarah?" she asked, her voice breaking. "Abigail will hate you for taking away her happiness. She'll runaway again, she'll find him again, and you'll force her to come home again. Trust me dear, no one can do that." Margret paused and wiped the hairs away from Sarah's face. "Not even someone as strong as you, Sarah."

Sarah's jaw quivered and she dropped her head again, her shoulders shaking as she sobbed silently. "I know how badly you want Abigail to come home. I do, because I want her back home too. But trust me when I say, that," Margret paused taking a deep breath, trying to calm herself, "that it's best to let Abigail… leave. And because that man is drunken, vulgar brute, she'll come back. Abigail will see what's wrong with him and come back."

"Promise?" Sarah asked. Her voice reminded Margret of a small child asking his mother to stay with them during the night because they were scared of the monsters under the bed. And god did it break Margret's heart to hear that.

"I promise," she said softly. Sarah lamely looked up at her stepmother and sniffed, wiping her tears away with the sleeve of Ben's old coat. Margret pulled Sarah into another embrace and just held her there, swaying side to side, humming a lullaby tune that Sarah remembered her own mother singing to her when she was small.

Sarah buried her head into Margret's shoulder, wondering if this was the closest thing she would ever get to having a motherly experience with Margret. If so, she never wanted this moment to end. She needed a mother's love and warmth right now. But Margret was right.

Sarah could curse Thomas Hickey up and down all she liked and it wouldn't bring Abigail back. She could force her sister to come home, only to have her runaway again. It was messed up logic, but Margret was right: Abigail needed to get this infatuation out of her system. And once that was done, Abigail would come back home. She had to.

Once the two finally calmed down, they stood up and looked at the mess Sarah had created in her rage.

"Sorry," she said in a lame, broken voice. Margret gave her a half-smile full of understanding. "I'll clean this up right now." Sarah made her way to get the broom and mop.

"Don't," Margret said holding out her hand. Sarah turned around gave her stepmother a confused look. "I'll… I'll clean this up; you go on upstairs and get some sleep. You've earned it." Sarah nodded and hugged her stepmother again. Margret patted Sarah's back and took notice of her stepdaughter's garb.

"Sarah, why are you wearing Ben's clothes?" Margret asked. Sarah's face flushed and she shuffled her feet.

"Ahem, it's a rather… complicated story," Sarah began. "Margret, I will explain why I'm wearing Ben's clothes, but please understand that I don't want to deal with this issue right now after all," Sarah gestured her hands towards the thrashed kitchen, "that."

Margret looked at her stepdaughter suspiciously before nodding understandingly. "Go, I'll see you during the day." Sarah nodded and hugged Margret one last time before leaving the kitchen and going up the stairs.

The sky was grey and pink outside Sarah's window. She had been up all night and the exhaustion of work and her breakdown left Sarah weak. Stripping down to her undergarments, she hung Ben's clothes her wardrobe and stood there for a moment, simply contemplating on what she was going to do next.

While she stood there, fingering Ben's coat, a small piece of linen cloth caught Sarah's eye. She opened the small bottom drawer in her wardrobe and pulled out a handkerchief. Connor's handkerchief, the one he had given her after he saved her life when Elijah assaulted her. Sarah almost forgot she had it still. She gently unfolded it and took a small whiff. It still smelled like him.

Keeping the piece of cloth close to her nose, Sarah walked to her bed, got under the covers and just laid there, fingering Connor's handkerchief. In doing so it brought back memories of their dance at the governor's ball, when they first met, and the simple conversations they had. The more Sarah remembered, the more she came to realize that she missed him. More than she originally thought.

She wanted to tell Connor about Susanna's wedding, about Abigail leaving her family for a man she claimed to love, how both Will and Ben were sacrificing their lives for freedom. Every big event and every small nuance that happened in Sarah's life that happened the past six months, Sarah wanted to tell Connor. He always listened and never judged and she loved that. He was always there to listen.

Pressing the handkerchief close to her lips, Sarah looked out the window, seeing the sun starting to rise of the rooftops of Boston, a city under siege. The last thing Sarah remembered seeing was Connor giving her that impassive, yet with a hint of care, expression of his. Another thing Sarah adored about him.

* * *

It was past noon before Margret got the kitchen back in order. Sarah was still sound asleep as Margret went in every now and again to check up on her. While Margret was finishing the last bit of clean up there was a knock at the door.

"It's me!" a chipper voice on the otherside called. Margret instantly recognized that it was Susanna, probably wanting to share some details on her wedding night. Wiping her hands on her apron, Margret opened the door and greeted Susanna with a bear hug.

"Hello dear!" Margret greeted, helping Susanna inside. "Try and be quiet dear, Sarah is sleeping."

Susanna cocked a brow. "What? Why? It's well passed noon-time!" Margret waved a hand and led Susanna into the kitchen.

"Something bad has happened," Margret began, pulling a chair out for Susanna. The young girl covered her mouth and sat down, anxiously waiting for the news. Margret sat in front of her and held Susanna's hands in her own.

"Susanna, darling, I don't know how to say this lightly, so I'm just going to come out and say it. Abigail… eh, Abigail has runaway from home." Susanna's face underwent a change of emotions. First she looked shocked, then angry, and then grief-stricken.

"W-what?" was all she could manage to say.

"I'm afraid it's true," Margret began, nodding her head. "Sarah came home and found the note before I did and thank goodness you weren't here Susanna to see how Sarah reacted."

"Why, what happened?" Susanna asked leaning in, her bright green eyes glazed with tears.

"She threw the table over and whatever she could get her hands on that was small, she threw across the room. Such a mess, but I don't blame her. After your father died, there was a… a change in you sister. She really hasn't been the same since," Margret explained. Susanna lightly nodded her head in agreement. Sarah had become less carefree since their father died, believing she needed to act as such to help with the family.

"With whom did Abigail run off with?" Susanna asked in a low voice.

"His name is Thomas Hickey," Sarah said in a horse from the archway that led into the kitchen. Both Margret and Susanna jumped. Sarah looked impassively at her sister and stepmother. Sarah was dressed in a plain blue dress with a simple floral pattern in a darker shade of blue, and wore the most exhausted look Susanna had ever seen on her sister.

"How are you feeling, Sarah?" Margret asked standing up. "Would you like me to get you something?"

"No, thank you," Sarah began and Margret slowly sat back down. "I just wanted to let you know that I was going for a walk. I'll be back soon. Susanna, it's good to see you sis." Without waiting for their responses, Sarah practically stamped her way through the door and onto the street.

Susanna and Margret exchanged worried looks before either one said anything.

"Coffee?"

"Yes please."

* * *

Sarah marched her way towards the wharves, the place that she loved most in Boston. She stood underneath an overhang of a nearby warehouse, watching the ships come and go, hearing the gulls shriek, and remembering a time that seemed like ages ago.

A few familiar faces passed Sarah by and they acknowledged each other with nods and brief "Hellos." The dead look on Sarah's face was enough to giveaway that she was not in a sociable mood. But Sarah needed to get out of the house; she needed fresh air and needed to breath.

Sarah had barely gotten any sleep and now she felt even groggier than before. Sighing deeply, Sarah rubbed her eyes and leaned against the wall, thinking of what Abigail could possibly be doing.

_I can't think about that_, Sarah thought to herself. _Yet, that's all I CAN think about. What's wrong with me_?

Pinching the bridge of her nose, Sarah didn't notice the pair of footsteps that were coming her way. She was too lost in her own thoughts to notice that someone was standing nearby. It wasn't until that someone spoke did Sarah acknowledge them.

"What happened?" James asked. Concern was evident in his eyes and he made to rest a comforting hand on Sarah's shoulder. Sarah just looked him, torn between telling him to lift a heavy load that was weighing her down, or keeping everything hidden?

"You don't have to tell me, if you don't want to," James said understandingly. Sarah looked back down at the ground and fiddled with her thumbs. "But, I do care about you Sarah, even if you may not like it, so, you would do me a great favor to know if you're alright or not."

After a brief moment of silence, Sarah finally said, "I'm not alright James. My sister has runaway with a man I barely know, that my family barely knows, and I don't know where she is or where it is she is going." James rubbed Sarah's shoulder comfortingly and looked at her sympathetically.

"I am so sorry Sarah," James began. "If there is anything I can do-"

"There is nothing you can do, James! Unless you can magically bring my sister back, which I highly doubt you can, there isn't a goddamn thing you can do that will make me feel better! You know what? I am so tired of everyone saying to me, 'I feel sorry for you. I feel so _fucking_ sorry for you!' Well you know what? Fuck those apologies and fake sympathies! Ever since I was five that was all I heard! 'Sarah, so sorry to hear about your mother!' 'Sarah, so sorry to hear about your father!' 'Sarah, so sorry to hear about you and your brother's shop!' 'Sarah, so sorry to hear about Mrs. Fucking-Howard!' Sorry-this and sorry-that!? I'm so **done**! You want to make me feel better? Don't tell me you're sorry, **BRING MY SISTER HOME INSTEAD**!"

A small crowd had gathered during Sarah's tirade and watched with wide, almost terrified eyes. Sarah stood there, oblivious to them all. Her hands were clenched into fists that shook, ready to strike at the next sign of movement. Sarah was so blind with hurt and anger that she wanted to destroy something; something beautiful.

James stood there impassively, undeterred by Sarah's insults and yelling. Instead, he calmly took a breath and took Sarah's hand, leading her away from the curious eyes of the crowd and soldiers and brought her inside a warehouse on the other side of the wharves. James was honestly surprised that Sarah didn't protest, but when he looked behind him and saw the tears running down Sarah's face, he understood why.

Once they were inside, James rubbed his hands on Sarah's shoulders and looked at her deeply. Sarah returned his gaze, anger and hurt swirling in her eyes.

"I'm sorry, but we needed to get away from prying eyes," James began. "I know I can never understand what you're going through, being an only child myself, but, I want to be there for you Sarah. Please believe that." James said in a soft voice. Sarah huffed and rolled her eyes and made a move to leave but James stopped her by getting in her way, as he always did. Sarah looked up at him, completely spent.

"You're so stupid," Sarah huffed wiping her face with Connor's handkerchief.

"What makes you say that?"

"You're stupid because you want to stay," Sarah began. "And fall in love with a woman like me. Every flirtation you have thrown at me, I've turned down. You know I have no interest to marry or be with a man, yet you kept seeing me, everyday. What I do should not be, and is none of your concern, and I've been so surly with you, and yet," Sarah trailed off shaking her head, "here you are."

James shrugged his shoulder and held out his arms, "Here I am."

"Why?"

"Sarah, you have a sense of entitlement about you. You think the world owes you something because you've had to fight for most of your life. But that's what I adore about you! How you do fight for something rather than nothing. You'd die for your family and you proved it even more now when you yelled at me in front of all those people. It's because you're rude and honest and kind and stubborn and compassionate! It's because you challenge me! And it's because of that, Sarah Townsend, I feel a certain ardor for you growing within me, and I will not be denied the simple pleasure of falling in love with you."

"No James," Sarah replied, shaking her head. "I'm afraid I can't return those type of feelings for you."

"And why not?" James asked, hurt growing in his grey-blue eyes. Guilt wrenched in Sarah's heart for a moment before being squashed by her earlier anger.

"Because I don't love you?" Sarah answered as if it were the simplest thing in the world. James smiled softly at her.

"Not yet," he said, "but you will. One day."

"You'll never hear me say those words for as long as you live, James Baker." Sarah replied picking up her skirts and walking away, leaving James in his confusion. She didn't look back or bother to stop walking. James always respected that fact. While he was an attractive man, Sarah couldn't picture herself falling in love with James.

It was just… something beyond her understanding and she didn't want to think about such stupidity right now. While walking in her emotional, hazy state, Sarah accidently bumped into someone's back, not paying attention as to where she was going. The back was firm and felt well built through the fabric. There was a quiver and bow strapped to it… Sarah stepped back and looked at him wide-eyed.

"Connor?" she asked as he turned around. His eyes too, went wide upon seeing Sarah again. He was back. Connor was finally back.


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: I've been gone for a long time, haven't I? Oops. I blame college. And life. Both get in the way a lot.**

* * *

"Sarah?" Connor replied. His eyes were still wide as he looked at her. Connor noticed how red her eyes were and he wondered if she had been crying, and if so, what for? Feeling concern for her, Connor gently reached a hand out towards her and Sarah involuntarily stepped back.

Sarah looked at Connor, not really sure what to think or say. Part of her was extremely happy to see him again, but the other part, knowing how red her eyes were from crying and how swollen her cheeks were, part of Sarah didn't really want to deal with Connor's interrogation. She felt light-headed after screaming her head off earlier and added with crying? Sarah wasn't in any proper condition to answer Connor's questions without having a meltdown. She looked at him for a few moments before gathering her skirts and running off in the other direction.

Connor watched Sarah run off, confusion plastered on his face. Stephane looked at Connor with both a mixture of amusement and confusion as well.

"It seems you scare off all the pretty girls, Connor," the man joked, laughing lightly. Connor shot Stephane a look that made the man stop immediately. Stephane raised his hands in mock surrender but his amused expression remained. Both men watched in the direction Sarah had run off in. Connor sighed and crossed his arms, thinking.

"Are you not going after her?" Stephane asked. Connor was silent and thought a moment. He knew how fierce Sarah's temper was when she was upset. So was it wise to go after her? Connor sighed again, but this time a little more frustratedly. In wanting to be a good friend, he did want to go after Sarah, but he was also aware that Sara might want to be alone considering how devastated she looked.

This was quite troublesome to Connor. But, with his mind made up, he turned to Stephane and said, "Wait for me back at the tavern." He took off in a walk, taking long strides as he went after Sarah. Stephane watched Connor walk off, shaking his head slightly. The man had often heard the Assassin talk about her and it was nice to put a face to the name, but Stephane wondered what it was about Sarah that had Connor so transfixed.

Stephane shrugged, thinking that he could ask the man later after he fixed his lady problems. Stephane walked off towards the tavern to await Connor's return, curious to hear Connor's answer when he returned.

* * *

Sarah sat on a bench as she stared at her father's old shop across the street. She leaned on her knees using her elbows and started at the old shop mournfully, remembering the days when she ran the business with Ben, going there as a child to surprise her father with afternoon visits. She let out a shaky breath and rubbed her eyes, trying to keep herself together. From the corner of her eye, Sarah noticed that Connor sat beside her, looking into the same direction as her.

"If you do not wish to talk, I understand," he said softly. "I just wanted to make sure that you were alright."

Sarah smiled softly and turned to him, "Thank you Connor, but… I am not alright and I do not think I can handle talking about it without having an emotional breakdown." He nodded his head, silently saying that they could leave it at that until Sarah felt ready to talk. She leaned back, reclining on the back of the bench. They both sat there in a somewhat comfortable silence.

Sarah twiddled with her fingers in her lap, glancing at Connor every now and again from the corner of her eye. He sat comfortably with his arms across his chest. But despite his casual poster, it was easy to see he was concerned for Sarah. Sarah smiled, mostly to herself.

"I'm really happy that you're back, Connor," Sarah said, smiling at him a little. Connor slowly nodded his head, giving Sarah a half-smile. He saw how behind that smile how tired Sarah was, not too mention hurt, possibly heartbroken. Connor looked at her with sympathy before turning his head forward. Sarah did the same and scooted a little closer to Connor.

"When did you get back to Boston?" Sarah asked a little absent-mindedly. Perhaps she needed a bit of small talk as a distraction from Abigail.

"A few hours ago," Connor replied. "I had some work that required my immediate attention." Sarah nodded understandingly. "Though… I would have made time to see you, even if for a small measure of time. I will not be in Boston long."

At hearing that Sarah turned her head sharply and looked at Connor not even bothering to hide her confusion. She sighed and closed her eyes, trying her best to swallow the rage she was feeling. Sarah rubbed the inside of her eye as if she were annoyed.

"What is it that preoccupies your time so much?" Sarah asked trying to keep her voice steady, though she was really only half successful. Connor noticed how Sarah's voice shook and gingerly placed his hand on top of hers. He wanted to tell her, but the fact that Connor had already told her about Assassins and Templars was enough. And he kept that secret from Achilles for good reason; the old man would have Connor's head if he said to Achilles that he talked about these secret organizations to a… non-member.

"I wish I could tell you, Sarah," Connor began. "But… I cannot. I am sorry." He gave her hand a gentle squeeze. She looked at him with sadness in her eyes before looking down and seeing how Connor's hand practically enveloped her own.

For her own peace of mind, Sarah asked, "How dangerous is it? The… objective that has you so preoccupied. Is it more dangerous than the 'work' you usually do?" Connor looked at Sarah, his head tilted to the side as he wondered how he was going to answer that question.

"It has the potential to become dangerous, yes, but I believe the likelihood of it actually becoming too dangerous is slim," Connor said in a reassuring tone, seeing the worry etched on Sarah's face. She nodded and a small smile graced her lips. It was a grateful smile, from what Connor could see. If he could pull the wool over her eyes, he would.

They were quiet again, but Connor still had his hand on Sarah's and she noticed this. Sarah blushed a little, but still kept looking forward at her father's shop as the two still sat on the bench. Sarah felt relaxed sitting next to Connor. She felt… protected, and happy even despite the fact Connor wouldn't stay in Boston long.

"My sister Susanna was married," Sarah said suddenly, sharing any happy news that she could to lift her mood. Connor smiled a little and turned his head slightly at Sarah. It really didn't work though.

"That is wonderful news to hear," Connor said in a polite tone. Sarah nodded and talked about how nice it was that the family was together to celebrate such a joyous occasion.

"Will is a good man. He is kind, gentle, and patient. He and Susanna will be very happy together," Sarah said, smiling mostly to herself again. She secretly hoped she would have a niece or nephew to spoil soon with gifts and kisses. But as Sarah thought about doting on her nephew or niece, it made her think how Abigail would never be able to do that.

Abigail would never be able to hear her nephew or niece's first cries; to see them walk for the first time; to celebrate birthdays together and teach their little nephew or niece some of the lessons that Edward taught Sarah, Ben, Susanna or Abigail. Sarah's jaw began to quiver and buried her face in her hands.

Her shoulders shook as Sarah began to sob quietly, sniffing every now and again. Connor looked at her with unyielding concern. He wasn't exactly sure how to comfort a woman, even if it was Sarah. He still had her hand in his and, thinking it would help, intertwined their fingers and squeezed Sarah's hand again.

Sarah looked up at him and she knew she was an eyesore. Her eyes were red and puffy, snot came out of her nose in small drops, and her cheeks were swollen from crying. But as if she could care for appearances right now. With her other hand, Sarah wiped her tears and nose with the back of her hand. She sniffed.

"It's Abby, my little sister. She's runaway from home to God knows where," Sarah said finally. Connor's look of concern never faltered. "I know you have so much to deal with already, Connor but… If possible, could you find Abigail for me? I would be forever in your debt more and I just… I just need to know that she's safe…" Sarah's voice broke again as she fell into another fit of tears.

Sarah buried her head into Connor's chest, gripping onto his shirt as if her life depended on it. Connor looked at her, taken aback more about how to comfort her. He was a little uncomfortable with how suddenly Sarah threw herself on him. Still… he gingerly, he placed his hand on her back and gently rubbed small circles on the small of her back.

Connor held Sarah like that for a few more moments till she finally calmed down and started hiccupping she was crying so much. "Sorry," she said lamely as Sarah slowly stood up. "I know you must have important work to do, and I don't want you to loose your head because I threw myself at you."

Connor sat there dumbfounded, registering what just happened. He sat there as he watched Sarah take wide steps towards her home. Shaking his head and muttering about how women's feelings seem to be as uncontrollable as the ocean, Connor stood up from his seat on the bench and followed Sarah.

"Sarah!" he called. "Sarah, please stop for a moment!" She stopped in her steps and turned around, looking at him with a mixture of confusion and anger. All Sarah wanted to do at this point was go home and lie in bed for a week and not move and Connor was getting in the way of that precious goal.

"What?" Sarah asked, her voice horse from crying so much.

"May I at least walk you home so I now that you will be safe?" Connor asked, looking down at her almost like a concerned parent. Sarah looked up at him for a moment, her green eyes looking deep into his brown ones.

_Did his eyes always have flecks of gold in them? Or am I just noticing this now?_ Sarah thought in the back of her mind. But she quickly came back to earth when Connor said her name, repeating his request. He cared, that much Sarah knew. Seeing no harm in the matter, she nodded her head and Connor offered her his arm. Sarah, rather lazily, looped her arm through his and they walked towards her home together.

All the crying and yelling had left Sarah lightheaded and dizzy and Connor, ever the observant man, picked up on that. He stopped their walking and taking one of her arms, wrapped it around his neck.

"What are-?" Sarah began to ask, but was cut off when Connor began to carry her bridal style. Sarah looked at Connor with wide-eyes and opened her mouth to protest that she was able to walk fine, but his sharp tone cut her off.

"Not another word on the matter. We are close to your home, so rest," Connor ordered in a deep, almost commanding tone. If it were under different circumstances, it probably would have been attractive. But Sarah, who _was_ too tired to protest, gave in and rested her head on Connor's chest. She didn't want to waste any more energy fighting a battle she knew she wouldn't win.

She noticed the stain her tears left on his shirt, and she frowned a little, feeling guilty. It would come out though, unlike wine stains. While Connor carried Sarah, she wondered in the back of her mind how heavy she was in his arms. His rather strong, muscular, well-built arms… and a chest that felt like silk over iron is was so soft and strong.

Sarah felt her cheeks begin to warm and Connor mistook this for something else entirely.

"You look warm," he said softly. "How could you have caught a fever all of a sudden?" Sarah opened her mouth to say that it was nothing, but Connor was stubborn in his own right. Sighing, she closed her mouth and let Connor lightly jog the rest of the way. They had perfect timing apparently as Susanna was standing in the doorway, kissing Margret's cheeks as they said goodbye. Susanna had her back turned towards the couple and Margret's face grew horrified.

"What happened? And who the bloody hell are you?" Margret asked, picking up her skirts and marching towards Connor. Susanna came to the rescue.

"He is a very good friend of Sarah's, Mother," Susanna said in a polite tone. "They have known each other since they were young! It's alright. I can handle it from here." Susanna managed to calm Margret down and walked towards Connor with a polite smile, until they were toe-to-toe.

"What the hell happened to my sister, you brute?" Susanna asked in a harsh whisper.

"Don't call him that Anna," Sarah mumbled. She had dosed off at some point and woke up when Susanna spoke. "You know how highly I think of Connor…" Sarah began to dose off again, her head bobbing on Connor's chest.

"She is tired from the day's exertions and I wanted to make sure she was home safe, but…" Connor drifted off, wondering what would be appropriate to say. "She might become ill from stress. May I please…?"

Susanna's expression softened as Connor spoke. She nodded and led the way inside. She looked at her sister with concern in her eyes and showed Connor the way to Sarah's room. Susanna left the door cracked open behind her and watched Connor gently lay Sarah down on her bed, covering her with the blankets.

He lowered his hood, exposing all of his face and Susanna was rather surprised at how handsome Connor was. Or maybe she remembered his face different from Christmas? Either way, he sat there for a moment at Sarah's bedside, concern etched on his face.

It was touching, beautiful even to Susanna's romantic perspective of the world. Seeing someone dote on her sister like that always warmed Susanna's heart. Connor gently squeezed Sarah's hand before standing up and pulling his hood back up. He walked towards the door and saw Susanna standing there, giving him a look of approval.

"Sarah asked me to help find your sister, Abigail?" Connor said, Susanna's face tightened a little, but she shrugged it off, prompting Connor to continue. "I cannot guarantee that I will find her, but I will try. Can you tell Sarah that?"

"I can," Susanna said in a soft voice.

"Thank you," Connor said with a nod. "I will not be in Boston long, but let Sarah know that I want her to be happy and safe. I will return when I can." Connor walked briskly down the stairs, but Susanna followed him after a few steps.

"Connor?" she called. Connor was already at the bottom of the stairs and looked up at Susanna.

"Thank you," she said gratefully. Connor nodded and proceeded to walk out the door, lost to the wind yet again.

* * *

Margret was sitting in the foyer, knitting by the fire to pass the time; humming a tune she remembered her mother sing to her as a child. It was well into the evening time and Sarah was still asleep. Margret insisted on staying up so that whenever Sarah woke up and was hungry, she could make her stepdaughter and hearty meal.

Margret looked over the pearl stitch she just did and tsked, it was no good and not nearly tight enough. As she went to redo it again, there was a soft knock at the door. Margret looked suspiciously at the door and carefully opened it. She recognized the face a little. What was the lad's name? James?

"Can I help you?" Margret asked, opening the door wider. It was nearly curfew for every Bostonian in the city.

"Yes… I, ahem… Would it be… permissible if I could see Sarah for a moment? She wasn't feeling well and I wanted to make sure she was alright." James said, fiddling with his hat in his hands. Margret was surprised and unsure of what to say. Was this man a suitor of Sarah's?

"Please?" he begged. Was it really proper for Margret to allow that? "It will only be just for a moment?" Something tugged at Margret's heartstrings and she opened the door wider for James to enter. "Thank you," James said with the most genuine, grateful smile he could muster.

He rushed up the stairs and looked for Sarah's room. After poking his head in a few wrong rooms, James found Sarah sleeping peacefully in her bed. One of her hands was tucked under her cheek while the other wrapped around her pillow. James smiled softly and gently tucked a stray piece of hair that was hanging in front of Sarah's face behind her ear.

James always did love how Sarah's hair had this honey-glow about it. It complimented her eyes and pale skin perfectly. James slowly let his finger trace her jaw and neck, enjoying how soft her skin was. James smile grew and he retracted his hand back, thinking how lovely Sarah looked while she slept.

Slowly she began to stir, her hips moving up and down and she started muttering in her sleep. A name.

"_Connor, Connor_," Sarah whispered. "_Connor_."

And for the first time in his life, James felt the cruel stab of jealousy.


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: A spinoff of this story that takes place in "The Tyranny of King Washington"? I** **think yes. Current in pre-production, so keep an eye out for that kiddies! I also apologize for being gone so long. Life got in the way, as it usually does. But now that I'm done with the school year, I can (hopefully) devote more time to this story. **

* * *

James sat there, watching Sarah sleep while he momentarily forgot to breath. His heart beat rapidly in his chest and he took deep breaths to keep himself calm. James forgot how to function for a moment. The name rung again and again in his mind: Connor. Releasing a breath he had been holding, James rose from his seat, hastily put his hat back one and took swift steps out of the room.

He stopped for a moment to recollect himself. James looked over his shoulder and sighed. Sarah… what a complicated girl she was. Despite the swollen cheeks and red-eyes she had from crying the day away, Sarah was still beautiful in his mind. James sighed again, not feeling all that defeated, but rather the clogs in his mind turned, thinking. He quietly closed the bedroom door behind him and took soft steps down the stairs.

Margret sat in a rocking chair near the fire as she knitted away. Once James was at the bottom of the stairs, he tipped his hat at Margret and smiled politely. Margret returned the gesture and resumed her knitting. She wanted this stranger out of her house before the curfew. But there was one thing Margret did want to ask…

"How are you acquainted with my Sarah?" Margret asked, setting her knitting needles in her lap. She looked at the young man before her curiously, her eyes squinting in slight suspicion.

"I met Sarah when she was apprenticing for Mrs. Howard, the seamstress near Fourth Street?" James said, hoping Margret was familiar with the shop. Margret nodded her rather absent-mindedly. She had heard of the place, but never shopped there herself.

"I have, yes. Most of that time is… rather blurry," Margret finished in a soft voice. She fiddled with her needles for a moment before another question popped in her head. "What are your feelings toward Sarah that you were so bent on seeing her?"

Here James was taken aback and unsure of what would be a proper answer. He coughed into his fist and shifted on his feet. Margret raised a brow at seeing the man fidget. Was her question that odd? It seemed reasonable enough to ask in her mind! James, after fidgeting, finally came up with an answer that seemed proper in his mind. Taking off his hat again, he stepped a little closer to Margret and asked if he may sit in the empty chair beside her. Margret nodded and James sat down.

"Well, ma'am," James began in a soft voice, "…I feel a great affection for Sarah. I find her endlessly fascinating. She's headstrong and stubborn yes, but she would die for her family and I admire her so greatly for that. She's complicated like any woman, but underneath I can tell there's this simplicity about her. I just…"

Margret listened intently while James spoke. A smile began forming on her lips when James's voice drifted off towards the end. A small laugh escaped her lips as well.

"If I didn't know any better, I would assume you're in love with my Sarah," Margret finished for him. James looked at Margret sheepishly and fiddled with his hat in hands. Margret picked up her knitting needles again and resumed making the scarf she was currently working on.

"Are you her mother, ma'am?" James asked, looking at Margret through his eyelashes. Margret shook her head.

"I'm her stepmother," Margret answered. "After my husband, Sarah's father, died several years ago, I was granted custody of them. I never had children of my own, you see, but I consider Sarah, Susanna, Abby, and Ben my children." James nodded silently and remained quiet, unsure of what to say next.

"It's a pleasure to meet you ma'am," James said in a quiet, polite tone. "I'm James Baker." He held out his hand for Margret to shake, which she accepted.

"A pleasure James. I'm Margret Townsend," she smiled. "You seem like a good lad," Margret said after a moment of silence. James raised his head and gave Margret an appreciative smile. "I would not mind it; if you were to court Sarah. You have my permission."

James, while grateful at hearing the woman's words, felt a defeated smile on his face. He shook his head, "I'm afraid I… I'm not sure if I should."

"Why ever not?"

Was it his place to really speak about such information? In James's mind, it didn't so he thought quickly on his feet and came up with a different reason that seemed viable in his mind. "I don't think Sarah sees me in that way." James shrugged his shoulders lazily. "Besides, I leave for training in a few days and won't be back for a couple weeks, possibly months."

Margret scoffed. "Pish posh! My Sarah is stubborn, yes, but sometimes that prevents her from seeing what's best for her. Perhaps if you're persistent enough, you'll make her see." Margret gave James a knowing smile while she continued knitting. James gave her a half-smile in return.

"Possibly," he said in a soft voice. The clock in the distance rung the hour and James rose to his feet. "The curfew! I had best leave and return home!" Hastily putting his hat back on, James took long strides to the door, but Margret stopped him by grabbing his arm.

"There's no point, son," Margret said. "You can stay here for the night. There is a guest room you can sleep in upstairs." James looked at the woman incredulously. "Go on, it's upstairs and the second door on your left."

"Miss Townsend, I couldn't," James started to protest but Margret held up a hand, silencing him. He understood where she was coming from, but still… Sarah was… Sighing, James gave the woman a defeated smile and walked up the stairs quietly and walked into the guest room, trying to clear his mind of Sarah, but was failing miserably. She was sleeping right across the hall.

* * *

Sarah slept through most of the morning, she noticed upon waking up. Groggily, she sat herself up, looking out the window as she watched the people of Boston walking down on the street below. It was a rather sad to see; a city and its people under siege. Sighing, Sarah threw the blankets off her and walked to her small vanity where she poured water into the bowl and washed her face clean. A bath sounded more inviting, now that she thought about it. Maybe later today she could away with having one.

Sarah lazily changed her dress and undergarments and brushed out the knots in her hair before putting it up in a simple, tight-knit bun. Down the stairs, Sarah could smell the scent of Margret's cooking. Her stomach instantly rumbled at the delicious smell and Sarah slumped down the stairs. She still felt slightly drained from yesterday's exertions. Rubbing her eyes, Sarah walked into the kitchen.

"Good morning, Margret," Sarah began, her eyes still closed, "I didn't mean to o-" Sarah stopped in her tracks when she opened her eyes and saw James sitting at the kitchen table, sipping on coffee that Sarah had helped smuggle into the city with Kit a fortnight ago. He too, stopped when he raised his cup to his lips, and looked at Sarah with wide-eyes, like he wasn't expecting her (considering this was _her _home).

"James? What are you doing here?" Sarah asked, approaching the table, her hands on her hips. James set his cup down and tapped the table, thinking of what to say. Sensing his nervousness, Sarah huffed and turned on her heel to make herself a cup of tea. By the time she sat down a few chairs away, James finally figured out his words.

"I came to see you the other night," he began in a small voice. Sarah looked at him curiously, her eyebrow rose. "I knew that you very upset about what happened and I…well, I wanted to make sure that you were alright." Sarah sighed deeply and took a long sip of her tea, even though her tongue and the back of her throat burned. Gently, she set her cup down and looked at James in the eye.

"As much as I…appreciate your concern, James, as you can see I am fine. Even if my emotions may not be so intact," Sarah said in a somewhat cutting voice, indicating she wanted to put the case to rest. James picked her subtle message and nodded, both taking sips at the same time. He looked down slightly, his fingers laced together as he rested his chin on top his hands. James stole a quick glance at Sarah. She looked less tired, but not fully recovered.

"Sarah?" James began again. Sarah traced the top of the cup with her finger and she looked up at James for a brief moment. "Did you ever give any thought to what I…confessed to you yesterday? About my feelings for you?" That must've been a touchy subject, judging from how Sarah fidgeted in her seat for the briefest moment. She bit the corner of her lower lip and rubbed her nose.

"To be honest, considering all that happened yesterday, I haven't," Sarah answered truthfully. James looked down and coughed.

"I see," he said, taking a long sip of coffee. Sighing, Sarah opened her mouth to speak, but was caught off guard by the knocking on her door. Her heart leaped in her throat for a moment as she hoped it was Connor at the door. Silently excusing herself from the table, Sarah walked towards the door. Feeling a certain excitement, Sarah eagerly opened the door, expecting to see Connor. She bit back her disappointment, however, when she saw Robert standing at her door.

That's right… She forgot to go to "work" last night. Sarah swallowed, but remembering her graces, pulled out her best polite smile at Robert.

"May I help you?" Sarah asked in a cordial tone. Robert seemed a bit moved and nervous. He fiddled with his hat in his hands.

"Does an Edward Hale reside here?" he asked. Sarah nodded, but said that he was away at the moment. "Do you know when he will be back?" Sarah shrugged and said no. Robert bit his lip and sighed. "Right then. Will he be home tonight? Yes? Okay, thank you ma'am!" With that, Robert leaped down the front steps and trotted down the street.

Kit must've sent Robert, trying to look for "Edward." Even though Sarah wasn't feeling like herself completely, she knew she could muster up the energy to work tonight. Sighing again, Sarah closed the door and walked back to the kitchen to continue talking to James, but he had situated himself in the foyer. He looked at Sarah intensely, he grey eyes boring into her green ones.

"Who was that?" he asked, jealousy seeping into his tone a little. Sarah visibly winced.

"Margret and I are having an old friend of the family stay with us for a bit. That was his work associate and I assume that Edward, our temporary tenant, skipped out on work last night," Sarah replied coolly, impressed she could come up with a lie at the top of her head. James didn't seem all that convinced, but swallowed what was given to him.

"James," Sarah started as she walked towards him. "I do not know what to say when it comes to your feelings for me."

He nodded understandingly. "That's fine, understandable even, given everything that's happened to you in the past two days alone. But, if I may ask one thing?" He took long strides towards Sarah took her hands in his, holding them tenderly. "Say that you'll at least give me a chance. Please?"

Sarah looked at him, her breath caught in her throat. She looked at how James held her hands. They felt secure, safe. She looked back at James through her eyelashes and blinked a few times and licked her lips. Sarah tried to think of something to say to James, but the one thing that kept coming to mind was Connor. Did Sarah's feelings for him go that deep? Sarah huffed and felt confused. She tore her hands away from James' and walked towards the empty fireplace. She looked down and fiddled with her hands, but even with her back turned away, Sarah could feel James's eyes on her.

"It's him that you're thinking of, isn't it? What's his name again? Connor?" James asked in a low voice, this time not hiding his disappointment. Sarah shot her head up and turned to look at James. Her questioning look made it obvious to what she was silently asking.

"You were mumbling his name in your sleep," James answered in a plain voice. Sarah sighed again and buried her face into her hands. When she looked back at him almost pathetically. Sarah wanted to try and talk things out, but James seemed to have had enough. Her expression seemed to have been enough for him. Angrily, James put his hat back on and looked at Sarah with contempt.

"You're a selfish woman, Sarah. Too selfish," James said in a cutting voice. He turned sharply towards the door and Sarah finally seemed to have found her voice. She quickly followed after him.

"James, wait! If you will let me explain things! Please, I am begging you!" Her words seemed to have fallen on deaf ears as James threw the door open and began to walk out. Sarah followed him and roughly grabbed him, pulling him towards her.

"What, Sarah?! What more can you do that you haven't already done?" James practically yelled. Sarah puffed out her chest and looked at James, square on.

"Connor," Sarah began, hurriedly trying to piece things together in her mind as she spoke, "Connor is a friend of mine since I have known since I was young, when my father was still alive and running the old shop. But what I feel for him… I don't know what I feel for him exactly. While I do consider him a good friend, and care for him a great deal, he is gone too often for a romantic relationship to grow."

Sarah noticed James's expression soften slightly as she spoke and at that sight, she felt herself calm down and gather herself more.

"Besides, I do not think I am Connor's type, per say. I am hesitant in the ways of romance as I have had past experiences that are less than good," her voice drifted off as she remembered how Elijah almost had her in that alleyway a year ago. Sarah shivered at the thought and held her arms, looking up at James sheepishly.

"Sarah," James began, "I have been pursuing you for close to four months now. Do you mean to say, that you are willing to give me a chance?" Sarah shifted her weight on her feet and thought a moment. Her and Connor…? There really wasn't a romance there, and besides he would want her to be happy, right? That's what friends would want for one another. Any romantic feelings she had for him, didn't have…? But then there was that experience with Elijah…

"Sarah?" James repeated, his hands placed gently on Sarah's shoulders.

"I am open to the idea," Sarah answered, "but… I want to take things slowly. I need to trust you." James's face brightened and a happy cry escaped his lips. He didn't need to say anything as the happiness and gratitude was plain on his face. He pulled Sarah into a tight embrace and when they pulled apart, James held her an arms length away with his hands still on her shoulders.

"May I kiss you Sarah?"

Everything felt blurry around Sarah. Did she really just say…? James's happiness was becoming infectious and a small smile painted Sarah's lips. She had never been properly kissed before.

"You may."

* * *

"_Write to me while I'm away?"_

"_I promise."_

"_It'll be about six months before we see one another."_

"_I know, Ben will be home at around that time as well."_

"_I don't want to leave you now, Sarah."_

"_I know. I'll write to you as often as I can."_

"_You promise?"_

"_I do."_

The kiss still lingered on Sarah lips still as she walked towards the pier. It was soft and warm, but then again, Sarah didn't know what to do when being kissed, so she let James do all the work. When they had pulled away, James laughed and commented how dull of a kisser Sarah was. In response, Sarah punched him on the bicep hard and that made James laugh harder. Sarah blushed and James, ever the understanding type, smiled and pulled Sarah into a warm embrace.

He would be away for training and wouldn't be back for six months. The separation affected James more, but Sarah was the stronger of the two. She petted his hair and told him all would be well; that writing to one another would help. James would still be in Boston for a few more days before being sent off and he planned on savoring every moment he could with Sarah before leaving, or so he kept saying to Sarah as they sat in her family's garden in the back of their house.

When James had left and Sarah walked back inside, Susanna and Margret greeted her with knowing smiles and teasing. Sarah silently brushed them off with a smile and helped around the house. As Susanna was leaving, she confided into Sarah the message Connor gave her last night. Sarah hugged her sister tightly and whispered thank you before seeing Susanna off.

At the docks, everyone chatted as they waited for the day's orders and deliveries form Kit. Robert was talking with Abraham and Patrick, they're small band of friends here at work. When Robert spotted Sarah/Edward walking towards them, he let out a huge sigh of relief. All three walked towards Sarah/Edward.

"Where were ya, lad?" Patrick asked. "Kit was cursin' up a storm that ya weren't here."

"I know, I know, and Kit has every reason to be as angry as he is at me," Sarah said. "It's just… my sister has runaway from home with some man my family knows nothing about."

Abraham sucked on his teeth and crossed his thick, muscular arms across his chest. "That's quite a shame, Ed. You have my sincerest apologies."

"Thank you, Abe."

"Mine as well, lad," Patrick added. Sarah nodded her head in thanks and looked at Robert when he spoke.

"Was your sister that one that I saw earlier today?" Robert asked.

Sarah shook her head, "No, it wasn't. It was my younger sister. The one you met today is my… twin." Robert nodded his head thoughtfully and a small smile appeared on his lips.

"You're twin is rather attractive, Ed. Not my type really, but she'll make one man very happy," Robert said with a laugh. Sarah rolled her eyes and smiled along with Patrick and Abe.

"Mr. Hale!" Kit's voice boomed from behind Sarah. Everyone turned their heads toward Kit as he tromped towards Sarah, his anger plain on his face.

"Good luck, lad," Patrick whispered as he, Abe and Robert slowly backed away. Sarah had faced worse. Bravely she stood her ground and stuck out her chest. Kit didn't pay attention or seem to care.

"Where were you yesterday?" Kit barked.

"Family problems, sir. My younger sister ran away from home with man and the issue needed to be dealt with immediately."

"While I am sorry to hear of your sister's problem, I am running a serious operation here! And if you are not willing to take it seriously, then I suggest you had best leave now!"

"With all due respect sir, the reason I am here now is so I _can _provide for what family I have left, so if you would be so kind as to let me take inventory of today's shipment and calculate-" Sarah was cut off by Kit back-handing her. She briefly lost her footing and Sarah looked up at Kit with a smirk.

"No physical pain can compare to what I felt for the past three days, sir," Sarah said in a low voice. Kit stood there, seething at Sarah's insubordination. It was deathly quite as everyone watched with baited breath. Releasing a sigh, Kit led Sarah away from the rest of the crowd.

"Talk to me like that again, I shall cut out your tongue," Kit threatened. Sarah looked at him blankly. For a moment they were like that, engaging in a stare-off.

"Do you still need someone to go with you to South Carolina, sir?" Sarah asked plainly. Kit nodded.

"But only if I can count on you Hale. If not, you bet your ass is never working in this town again."

"You can count on me, sir. I'm in."


End file.
